Sanctuary
by Scarlet Scully
Summary: A "what if" story that takes place during the middle of the iconic book... an exploration of a scenario where Scarlett's notorious inability to properly judge a person's true character has a major impact on the significant events of her life. Perhaps a little OOC (for a "minor" character, but hopefully it is plausible). Rated M (violence, rape & disturbing circumstances). Complete
1. Prologue

_Okay, for starters, let me begin with the fact that this is my first foray into the indomitable GWTW universe – a daunting task in and of itself… On top of that, I am returning after a very long absence…. An absence filled with many things that include, above all, a yearning to be apart of a community of writers to which I once belonged. I am immensely too old to be here, but there is something therapeutic about the power of keystrokes that eventually become words, so I am completely ignoring the age factor here._

 _On another note, I have rated this story M for a reason…. As I mentioned, I am a mature writer who has decided to include mature themes in this story. Please don't read any further if you are not prepared for something rated a little more than your average PG-13 movie._

 _A few more author's notes in the next chapter. Until then, please, read on:_

Prologue

Scarlett curled upon herself, pulling her knees closely against her chest. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks and she shivered in the cool air of the dark bedroom. Holding her breath against the sharp pain it caused, she reached up and pulled her nightdress from beneath her pillow. Releasing her breath only to draw it in again, she moved to pull the warm clothes over her head. Despite her determination, a cry escaped as she moved her left arm into the sleeve, sharp pains shooting viciously from her shoulder and across her left side. She closed her eyes, trying to squeeze away the pain and the memories recalled in response to that pain. The simple childhood trick failed and her mind assaulted her again as it relived her body's attack. Images flashed, one followed rapidly by the next, in and out of sequence, culminating in the final violent taking of her body. She could feel the stickiness between her legs, and knew that some of her blood mixed with his sticky fluid.

She tensed as the she heard the door open again behind her, desperately holding herself still against the rapid beating of her heart. A sliver of light illuminated his tall frame briefly and then the door closed behind him. Her heart raced and her stomach clenched with fear and she bit her lip until she tasted blood. Eyes squeezed shut tightly, she listened, body tensed for whatever pains were about to be visited upon her once again. Sounds of feet shuffling as he moved about the room were her only clues to his actions, but she still held her eyes closed. Then suddenly, the bed shifted behind her and she barely contained a gasp at the movement. Bracing for his next move, she didn't realize how much time had passed until she found her chest squeezing painfully for lack of air. Silently, she released the breath she had unconsciously been holding as the sound of his snores filled the room. She knew that this sound and even more so, the pain that penetrated her broken frame, would rob her of sleep once again.

How much more of this could she possibly withstand? The answer to that question she did not know but she did know that she did not want to find out.


	2. Chapter One

_First off, please let me apologize... this chapter was supposed to be uploaded with the prologue that I posted last night. Also, one last note about the mature themes in this work. I am definitely going to be going down a few dark pathways, so if this isn't your cup of tea, please beware._

Chapter One

Their engagement would have been called a whirlwind in the pre-war times. Yes, it had been a hasty marriage, but whirlwind brings to mind a pleasant, romantic flurry of activity. In the post-war age, there wasn't really any pleasantry to be found. And, the idea of flurry bespoke of almost superfluous movement whereas the lack of everything demanded an economy of action to ensure that the least amount of effort was expended.

No, in post-war Atlanta, Scarlett and Frank's short engagement and subsequent marriage didn't have any romantic adjectives in their description. Scarlett was sure that there were many whispers behind her back, but she didn't care. She felt reasonably certain that her new husband did not know that she had essentially married him for the want of acquiring three hundred dollars. Although, she did believe that he was starting to question if there would be any love in their marriage. She truly appreciated him for saving her Tara, but that fact could only sweeten her disposition so far. She was still exhausted, hungry (although no longer starving) and this latest step toward saving her precious home had required her to leave it – indefinitely. All of these facts combined to sharpen her already sharp disposition which undoubtedly opened her husband's eyes even further to the reality of their marriage.

Still, despite the truth of her circumstances and feelings, Scarlett still believed that Frank was satisfied with their arrangement. She felt that he had secured a much better bargain than herself. After all, she was the belle of Clayton County and could have had any beau that she chose – before the war – so certainly Frank had married above his station in numerous ways. His family didn't have the history of southern nobility that the Robillards carried, his appearance certainly didn't rank near Scarlett's own beauty and his pre-war occupation as a merchant did not carry the weight that plantation owner did. No, Scarlett truly believed that Frank should be more than happy with their arrangement even if she had tricked him into their marriage.

To say that she had been completely taken by surprise the first time Frank revealed that he held the capacity for any sort of harshness was a complete understatement. Never one to take the time to truly investigate and understand someone else's true character, she still was rarely taken completely by surprise by the actions of others – never mind her own husband. But with Frank, she ignored the little clues to his true personality and instead proceeded to treat him like the "old maid in britches" she had dubbed him years earlier. In retrospect, she should have seen the brief outbursts and flashes of anger as a foreboding to what her future might hold and in that instance, she might have tread more carefully. Though the harshness that exploded when she pushed and questioned him on his business acumen paled drastically in comparison to that first time.

She had been sitting quietly in the parlor with Aunt Pitty when he barrelled into the house. The pounding of his footfalls and banging of the front door had sent poor Pittypat into a state, calling for Uncle Peter and her smelling salts. Scarlett hastily met him in the foyer, prepared to call him to quarter for his behaviour.

"Frank!" she admonished, "how dare you enter this house making all that racket? You know how fragile Aunt Pitty is? And why are you so late?"

He turned on her and she immediately recoiled at the anger she found in his features. "How dare I? How dare you even question me? You are my wife and you will answer to me – not the other way around!"

He grasped Scarlett's wrist and dragged her to the stairs leading to the bedrooms on the second floor. He was determined to show her that he was the rightful leader of their union. He would no longer allow her to cuckold him as she had done in the past. Never again would he overhear conversations at the saloon while seeking to relax after a busy workday. Never again would he hear whispers about how she had tricked him into marrying her. No longer would he question her reasons for their hasty marriage.

"Unhand me," she yelled, pulling forcefully against the grip bruising her wrist. Despite her struggles, he easily dragged her closer to the stairway.

"You will do as I say and not question me, understand?" His alcohol tinged breath washed over her along with his anger.

"You're drunk," she stated with false bravado. "Go to bed and leave me be."

"Oh, don't worry," he growled. "That's exactly where I'm going and so are you!" He intended to show her that he fully and completely owned her, ensuring there would be no questions in the future toward that fact.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she screamed and began struggling more fervently against his grip. With her free hand, she attempted to slap him. He captured that hand before it could make contact with his cheek, and transferred her tiny wrist to the hand that held her other. Using his freed hand, he gripped her neck and forced her against the wall.

"You will do as I say, or I will kill you." He squeezed her throat, emphasizing the veracity of his threat, his hot breath cascading over her. "Do you understand?"

A few silent moments passed as Scarlett fought for breath, all the while she wondered why none of the servants had intervened to save her. What she didn't realize was that they knew that Mister Kennedy had become the rightful owner of Scarlett and all of her property when they had wed. As such, whether they agreed with his actions or not, he had the right to handle her as he chose. As such, it was not their place to intervene.

Finally, she nodded silently. At her acquiescence, he lessened his hold on her slightly and she gulped in the much needed air. "Now, get yourself to our room." He shoved her roughly toward the staircase, releasing her as he did. She stumbled forward, reaching for the railing, in an effort to save her from the hard steps but failed. She managed to get her left hand in front of her, bending her wrist back and slamming her forearm on the wood tread, but saving her ribs from the sharp corner of the stairs.

Frank grabbed her upper right arm and dragged her bodily up to her feet. She struggled to keep her feet beneath her as he marched up the stairs, pulling her with him. Focusing on her steps allowed her to keep from thinking of what she was heading toward. Unfortunately, the staircase wasn't long enough and too soon they arrived at their bedroom.

He shoved her to the bed, standing directly behind her. She fought the bile rising in her throat as he brushed her hair away and kissed the back of her neck sloppily. His alcohol soured breath washed over her as his right hand came around and tugged at the bodice of her dress, squeezing her breast painfully. She closed her eyes, willing her mind blank as she felt his manhood press against her back. Expecting to feel his fingers fumbling with her buttons, she was taken by surprise as he shoved her forward, bending her at the waist and pressing her chest against the bedding. Suddenly, her skirts were thrown up, his hot hands pulling at her underclothes until she was exposed from the waist down. Brutally, he forced himself inside her, tears squeezing out from her tightly closed eyes. Biting her lip against the pain, she willed her mind blank, refusing to make a sound. The grunting and pounding continued behind her, seemingly endless, until finally a strangled curse left his throat and he collapsed against her, hot breath once again washing over her.

A sob escaped despite her efforts to remain silent. His panting slowed and eventually, he moved his crushing weight off of her. "Clean yourself up, sugar. I'm going downstairs for a brandy, but I'll be back up shortly." The harshness had left his tones, but the underlying anger was still present. She remained silent as he repaired his appearance, holding in the torrent of her tears until after the sound of the door closing had filled her ears.

Later that night, as she lie stiffly in their bed, Scarlett took stock of her current circumstances. She had thought that the worst part of becoming Mrs. Frank Kennedy was that she would have to leave Tara. The sacrifice had seemed almost too much at the time, but grudgingly she hadn't thought of whether it would be worth it until it was too late. So focused had she been on getting the money for the taxes that she hadn't thought far enough ahead to realize that by marrying Frank, she would be forced to leave the very childhood haven she was trying to save.

This sudden turn of events clearly showed her that her sacrifice was much greater than the reward. Why had this side of Frank never showed itself before? And why today all of a sudden? They had barely interacted at all – he had left early and come home late. What could she have possibly done to make him treat her so poorly? The throbbing in her wrist lessened and the aches in her body faded slightly. And, eventually her thoughts slowed their progression through her mind and she fell into a fitful slumber.

 _AN: I hope I haven't offended anyone by taking Frank a little OOC... there is an argument that maybe he's not THAT far OOC - maybe the war affected him aversely_ _and brought out this dark side of his character? Something has to change after all... otherwise, I would just be typing out MM's iconic tale._


	3. Chapter Two

_AN: First of all, I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to review what I've posted so far. I know that this is a little controversial and I really love the feedback as to how believable or unbelievable the circumstances I've painted so far appear. As with any "what if" story, characters have to react a little differently in order for us to end up in this alternate reality and I truly appreciate everyone taking the leap with me by travelling down this road._

 _Secondly, my apologies for not making the warnings strong enough. I hope that I haven't offended anyone too much. To that note, things will get worse before they get better so if this isn't your thing, please don't continue to read. This chapter isn't harsh, but there are more to come so I would hate for someone to continue to read thinking that last chapter was a one time thing._

 _Thirdly, I have borrowed largely from MM in this chapter. I felt it was worth including her work here since this scene was completely eliminated from the movie so many readers here aren't familiar with it and I really felt it was a shame the movie left it out._

 _Finally, I'm a little rusty at this and just realized that I hadn't included any type of disclaimer... so, just to be clear: I don't own any of these characters and am not making any money off of this writing. No harm or infringement intended by this work of fiction. Now, on with the show..._

A mercifully uneventful week passed after that fearful night. Scarlett wasn't sure if it was because Frank was now happy with her after having vented his spleen. Or if, since he was feeling under the weather, he was too sick to yell at her, let alone abuse her further. She had been walking on eggshells around him for the entire week so when he again voiced concern on how the store was doing without him, she jumped on the opportunity to check on it for him – giving herself a little breathing room, if even for only a few hours.

Uncle Peter drove her over to the store just before supper time. Entering the dimly lit building, she appraised the wares and layout quietly. Behind the counter, the boy Frank had hired to help in the evenings watched her carefully. Clearly, he was as uncomfortable having her there as she was having him watch her. Offering him a much needed reprieve, she finally had the solitude she craved to explore the store freely. Although open in the early evening hours in the event of a sudden necessity, customers very rarely frequented the store at this time of day and Scarlett was able to peruse the store thoroughly without interruption. To say that she was disappointed was an understatement. She had hoped that her initial impressions of the store had been incorrect, but unfortunately, her early assessments were accurate. Certainly, the store was fraught with potential, but Frank's handling of his business left much to be desired.

'To think that this bumbling business is all that stands between us and starvation,' she chastised to herself.

Eying the ledger books, she suspected that she would find as much distress as she had found in the storeroom. Unfortunately, they were worse. Settling herself in a chair near the fire, she prepared for a long perusal and correction of the stores accounts. She had just finished compiling a list of the debtors that were behind on the payment of their accounts – 'how will we ever make any money if Frank doesn't get people to pay?' – when a draft filled the room as a man entered the store.

Startled, she looked up only to find herself face to face with the one man she thought she would never see again – Rhett Butler. A well-dressed (as usual), perfectly fit and smiling, Rhett Butler. Straightening, she closed the ledger she was working on and placed it on the table at her side.

"My dear Mrs. Kennedy. My very dear Mrs. Kennedy."

"What are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to greet a dear old friend?" He put his hand on his chest, playing at being wounded by her words. "And here I was rushing over to congratulate you on your recent nuptials."

She cringed inwardly. She hated that Rhett seemed to always know her darkest secrets. She hated that she had to look him in the eye when she had been most recently wishing that he had been able to take her up on her very scandalous offer – that being his mistress seemed more appealing these days than Frank's proper southern wife. Here he was, finding her again in poor circumstances. Well, she wouldn't let him know how poorly things had turned for her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Oh, what a pity they didn't hang you?"

He chuckled. "Others share your feeling, I fear. Come, Scarlett, relax. Surely, you've had time to recover from my — er — my little joke."

"Joke? Ha! I'll never get over it!"

"Oh, yes, you will. You are just putting on this indignant front because you think it's proper and respectable. May I sit down?"

"No."

He sank into a chair beside her and grinned.

"I hear you couldn't even wait two weeks for me," he said and gave a mock sigh. "How fickle is woman!"

When she did not reply he continued.

"Tell me, Scarlett, just between friends — between very old and very intimate friends — wouldn't it have been wiser to wait until I got out of jail? Or are the charms of wedlock with old Frank Kennedy more alluring than illicit relations with me?"

He paused, continuing after she failed to respond: "I would like to say that marriage becomes you, but that would be a lie. Why on earth are you wearing such an awful dress? Surely, there is some decent fabric in this dusty place for you to create something more becoming? Or is it because you married an old man that now you feel the need to dress like an old woman?"

She tugged at the high collar of her tan walking-out dress – a style and color that she abhorred. She had been grateful to find it stuffed at the back of her closet however. The collar was just high enough to hide the bruises from her altercation with Frank that had yet to fully fade. Her ire had been raised at the beginning of their conversation and she thought to demand that he leave. But as she remembered the reason for her dreaded attire and that the man in front of her knew that her hand had been forced into these circumstances, she relaxed visibly.

"Oh Rhett, you are always so obsessed with my clothes," she deflected. "Whatever did you do to pass the time in jail? What, with not having any women's clothing to critique? How did you ever get out of jail anyway?"

"That is a long and boring story. Let's just say that influence is everything and guilt or innocence merely an academic question."

"I'll take oath that you weren't innocent," she replied.

"No, now that I'm free, I will admit that I'm as guilty as Cain. I did kill the darkie. He was uppity to a lady, what else could a Southern gentleman do? And, while I'm confessing, I must admit that I shot a Yankee cavalryman after some words in a barroom."

He was so blithe about his murders that her blood chilled. Words of moral reprimand formed briefly in her mind until she recalled the Yankee laying under the tangled vines at Tara. He had not been on her conscience any more than a roach she had stepped on. She could not sit in judgement on Rhett when she was as guilty as he.

"And, as I seem to making a clean breast of it, I must tell you in strictest confidence, that I did have the money, safe in a bank in Liverpool."

"Do you mean you – you actually have the Confederate gold?"

"Not all of it. Good heavens – no! Only about half a million of it. Just think, Scarlett, if only you'd restrained your fiery nature and not rushed into wedlock again!"

A half-million dollars. She felt a pang of almost physical sickness at the thought of so much money. His jeering words passed over her head and she did not even hear them. It was hard to believe there was so much money in all this bitter and poverty-stricken world. So much money, so very much money, and someone else had it, someone who took it lightly and didn't need it. And she had only a mean, sick husband and this dirty, piddling, little store between her and a hostile world. Oh, her hasty decision to choose Frank for her safe harbor was looking worse by the minute. She felt tears prick her eyes as she remembered that dark night just a week past. Her wrist throbbed in answer and she rubbed it slowly. She found herself tempted to ask Rhett to leave her alone so she could finally give into her despair.

"Are those tears, Scarlett? Does the thought of my having that money upset you so? Surely you are taken care of well enough. Hasn't Frank as much money as you hoped?"

There was no evading his impudence. Either she would have to put up with it or ask him to leave. And now, all of a sudden, she did not want him to leave. His words were barbed but they were the barbs of truth. He knew what she had done and why she had done it and he did not seem to think the less of her for it. And though his questions were unpleasantly blunt, they seemed actuated by a friendly interest. He was the one person to whom she could tell the truth or at least some portions of the truth. That would be a relief, for it had been so long since she had told anyone the truth about herself and her motives. Talking to Rhett was comparable only to one thing - the feeling of ease and comfort afforded by a pair of old slippers after dancing in a pair too tight.

"Didn't you get the money for the taxes? Don't tell me the wolf is still at the door of Tara." There was a different tone in his voice.

She looked up to meet his dark eyes and caught an expression which startled and puzzled her at first, and then made her suddenly smile; a sweet and charming smile which was seldom on her face these days. She knew now that the real reason for his call was not to tease her but to make sure she had the money for which she had been so desperate. She knew now that he had hurried to her to lend her the money if she still needed it. And yet he would torment and insult her and deny that such was his intent, should she accuse him. Did he really care about her, more than he was willing to admit? Or did he have some other motive? 'Probably the latter,' she thought. But who could tell? He did such strange things sometimes.

"No," she said, "the wolf isn't at the door any longer. I— I got the money."

"But not without a struggle, I'll warrant. Did you manage to restrain yourself until you got the wedding ring on your finger?"

She tried not to smile at his accurate summing up of her conduct but she could not help dimpling. He seated himself again, sprawling his long legs comfortably.

"Well, tell me then what has upset you so? Did Frank, the brute, mislead you about his prospects? He should be soundly thrashed for taking advantage of a helpless female. Come, Scarlett, tell me everything. You should have no secrets from me. Surely, I know the worst about you."

"Oh, Rhett, no, he didn't exactly fool me but —" Suddenly it became a pleasure to unburden herself, even if only on some level. No, the worst of her circumstances she could never confide to Rhett – to anyone. She could only imagine at their smug looks should anyone find out how badly her tides had turned. But money, she could definitely talk to Rhett about money and he wouldn't judge her for it.

"Rhett, if Frank would just collect the money people owe him, I wouldn't be worried about anything. But, Rhett, fifty people owe him and he won't press them. He says a gentleman can't do that to another gentleman. And it may be months and may be never before we get the money."

"Well, what of it? Haven't you enough to eat until he does collect?"

"Yes, but — well, as a matter of fact, I could use a little money right now." Her eyes brightened as she thought of the mill. "Perhaps —"

"What for? More taxes?"

"Is that any of your business?"

"Yes, because you are getting ready to touch me for a loan. Oh, I know all the approaches. And I'll lend it to you — without, my dear Mrs. Kennedy, that charming collateral you offered me a short while ago. Unless, of course, you insist."

"You are the coarsest —"

"Not at all. I merely wanted to set your mind at ease. I knew you'd be worried about that point. Not much worried but a little. And I'm willing to lend you the money. But I do want to know how you are going to spend it. I have that right, I believe."

"I don't know quite how much I'll need," she said sulkily. "But I want to buy a sawmill — and I think I can get it cheap. And I'll need two wagons and two mules. I want good mules, too. And a horse and buggy for my own use."

"A sawmill?"

"Yes, and if you'll lend me the money, I'll give you a half-interest in it."

"Whatever would I do with a sawmill?"

"Make money! We can make loads of money. Or I'll pay you interest on the loan — let's see, what is good interest?"

"Fifty per cent is considered very fine."

"Fifty — oh, but you are joking! Stop laughing, you devil. I'm serious."

"That's why I'm laughing. I wonder if anyone but me realizes what goes on in that head of yours behind that deceptively sweet face."

"Well, who cares? Listen, Rhett, and see if this doesn't sound like good business to you. Frank told me about this man who has a sawmill, a little one out on Peachtree road, and he wants to sell it. He's got to have cash money pretty quick and he'll sell it cheap. There aren't many sawmills around here now, and the way people are rebuilding — why, we could sell lumber sky high. Frank would buy the mill himself if he had the money."

"Poor Frank! What is he going to say when you tell him you've bought it yourself right out from under him? And how are you going to explain my lending you the money without compromising your reputation?"

Scarlett had given no thought to Frank's reaction but it gave her pause now. She rubbed her wrist distractedly, the slightest grimace marring her features briefly. The ever-perceptive Rhett took note all the same, narrowing his eyes at the movement. She wasn't sure what she had done to displease Frank previously, but she was sure this would upset him again. She wasn't altogether certain that the act alone of buying the mill would upset him. But, she was sure he would be furious if he found out that she had borrowed the money from Rhett.

"Well, I just won't tell him."

"He'll know you didn't pick it off a bush."

"I'll tell him — why, yes, I'll tell him I sold you my diamond earbobs. And I will give them to you, too. That'll be my collat — my whatchucallit."

"I wouldn't take your earbobs before and I still don't want them now."

"You have to take them, Rhett. Frank will never believe my story if I try to hide them. He'll find them and then he'll, he'll….. well, you just have to take them. It's the only way I can explain where I got the money. You are going to lend me the money, aren't you?"

"Good Lord!" he cried impatiently. "Don't you ever think of anything but money?"

"No," she replied frankly, turning hard green eyes upon him. "And if you'd been through what I have, you wouldn't either. I've found out that money is the most important thing in the world and, as God is my witness, I don't ever intend to be without it again."

She remembered the hot sun, the soft red earth under her sick head, the smell of the cabin behind the ruins of Twelve Oaks, remembered the refrain her heart had beaten: "I'll never be hungry again. I'll never be hungry again."

"I'm going to have money someday, lots of it, so I can have anything I want to eat. And then there'll never be any hominy or dried peas on my table. I'm going to have money enough so the Yankees can never take Tara away from me. And Wade isn't ever going to know what it means to do without the things he needs. Never! He's going to have everything in the world. And all my family, they aren't ever going to be hungry again. I mean it. Every word. You don't understand, you're such a selfish hound. You've never had the Carpetbaggers trying to drive you out. You've never been cold and ragged and had to break your back to keep from starving!"

He said quietly: "I was in the Confederate Army for eight months. I don't know any better place for starving."

"The army! Bah! You've never had to pick cotton and weed corn. You've — Don't you laugh at me!"

His hands were on hers again as her voice rose harshly.

"I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing at the difference in what you look and what you really are. And I was remembering the first time I ever saw you, at the barbecue at the Wilkes'. You had on a green dress and little green slippers, and you were knee deep in men and quite full of yourself. I'll wager you didn't know then how many pennies were in a dollar. There was only one idea in your whole mind then and that was ensnaring Ash —"

She jerked her hands away from him.

"Rhett, if we are to get on at all, you'll have to stop talking about Ashley Wilkes. We'll always fall out about him, because you can't understand him."

"I suppose you understand him like a book," said Rhett maliciously. "No, Scarlett, if I am to lend you the money I reserve the right to discuss Ashley Wilkes in any terms I care to. I waive the right to collect interest on my loan but not that right. And there are a number of things about that young man I'd like to know."

"I do not have to discuss him with you," she answered shortly.

"Oh, but you do! I hold the purse strings, you see. Some day when you are rich, you can have the power to do the same to others. . . . It's obvious that you still care about him —"

"I do not and I see no need to discuss the subject."

"I wish to discuss it," said Rhett. There was a low note in his voice which Scarlett did not understand but did not like to hear. "And, by God, I will discuss it and I expect you to answer me. So he's still in love with you?"

"Well, what if he is?" cried Scarlett, goaded. "I don't care to discuss him with you because you can't understand him or his kind of love. The only kind of love you know about is just — well, the kind you carry on with creatures like that Watling woman."

"Oh," said Rhett softly. "So I am only capable of carnal lusts?"

"Well, you know it's true."

"Now I appreciate your hesitance in discussing the matter with me. My unclean hands and lips besmirch the purity of his love."

"Well, yes — something like that."

"I'm interested in this pure love —"

"Don't be so nasty, Rhett Butler. If you are vile enough to think there's ever been anything wrong between us —"

"Oh, the thought never entered my head, really. That's why it all interests me. Just why hasn't there been anything wrong between you?"

"If you think that Ashley would —"

"Ah, so it's Ashley, and not you, who has fought the fight for purity. Really, Scarlett, you should not give yourself away so easily."

Scarlett looked into his smooth unreadable face in confusion and indignation.

"We won't go any further with this and I don't want your money. So, get out!"

"Oh, yes, you do want my money and, as we've gone this far, why stop? Surely there can be no harm in discussing so chaste an idyl — when there hasn't been anything wrong. So Ashley loves you for your mind, your soul, your nobility of character?"

Scarlett writhed at his words. Of course, Ashley loved her for just these things. It was this knowledge that made life endurable, this knowledge that Ashley, bound by honor, loved her from afar for beautiful things deep buried in her that he alone could see. But they did not seem so beautiful when dragged to the light by Rhett, especially in that deceptively smooth voice that covered sarcasm.

"It gives me back my boyish ideals to know that such a love can exist in this naughty world," he continued. "So there's no touch of the flesh in his love for you? It would be the same if you were ugly and didn't have that white skin? And if you didn't have those green eyes which make a man wonder just what you would do if he took you in his arms? And a way of swaying your hips, that's an allurement to any man under ninety? And those lips which are — well, I mustn't let my carnal lusts obtrude. Ashley sees none of these things? Or if he sees them, they move him not at all?"

Unbidden, Scarlett's mind went back to that day in the orchard when Ashley's arms shook as he held her, when his mouth was hot on hers as if he would never let her go. She went crimson at the memory and her blush was not lost on Rhett.

"So," he said and there was a vibrant note almost like anger in his voice. "I see. He loves you for your mind alone."

How dare he pry with dirty fingers, making the one beautiful sacred thing in her life seem vile? Coolly, determinedly, he was breaking down the last of her reserves and the information he wanted was forthcoming.

"Yes, he does!" she cried, pushing back the memory of Ashley's lips.

"My dear, he doesn't even know you've got a mind. If it was your mind that attracted him, he would not need to struggle against you, as he must have done to keep this love so — shall we say 'holy'? He could rest easily for, after all, a man can admire a woman's mind and soul and still be an honorable gentleman and true to his wife. But it must be difficult for him to reconcile the honor of the Wilkes' with coveting your body as he does."

"You judge everybody's mind by your own vile one!"

"Oh, I've never denied coveting you, if that's what you mean. But, thank God, I'm not bothered about matters of honor. What I want I take if I can get it, and so I wrestle neither with angels nor devils. What a merry hell you must have made for Ashley! I can almost be sorry for him."

"I— I make a hell for him?"

"Yes, you! There you are, a constant temptation to him, but like most of his breed he prefers what passes in these parts as honor to any amount of love. And it looks to me as if the poor devil now had neither love nor honor to warm himself!"

"He has love! . . . I mean, he loves me!"

"Does he? Then answer me this and we are through for the day and you can take the money and throw it in the gutter for all I care."

Rhett rose to his feet and threw his half-smoked cigar into the spittoon. There was something about his movements - the same pagan freedom and leashed power Scarlett had noted that night Atlanta fell, something sinister and a little frightening. "If he loved you, then why in hell did he permit you to come to Atlanta to get the tax money? Before I'd let a woman I loved do that, I'd —"

"He didn't know! He had no idea that I—"

"Doesn't it occur to you that he should have known?" There was barely suppressed savagery in his voice. "Loving you as you say he does, he should have known just what you would do when you were desperate. He should have killed you rather than let you come up here — and to me, of all people! God in Heaven!"

"But he didn't know!"

"If he didn't guess it without being told, he'll never know anything about you and your precious mind."

Scarlett opened her mouth, but closed it again without speaking. She didn't know what to say to Rhett's accusations and she didn't want to think about what they implied. She didn't want to spend any time dwelling on her current situation. She would think of it all tomorrow. For now, she just wanted to focus on her future.

Just at that time, the counter boy returned from his break, a flash of surprise across his features at finding the pair of them together. Scarlett rose and returned the ledger books to their shelf behind the counter.

"Rhett, can you drive me out to the mill?"

"Now?" he asked, rising from his chair.

"Yes, I want to buy that mill before anyone else does – and before you change your mind about lending me the money."


	4. Chapter Three

_Okay so here is my latest installment in this little world within a world I've created. I am very flattered by not only the reviews that I have received, but the detail and depth to which those kind reviewers have provided. There is no better form of motivation than the knowledge that someone is interested - that you are not the only one who is interested in where this story will end. Thank you so very much. And, as before, none of this belongs to me and no harm is intended in the creation of this work. Thank you for coming along the journey so far._

Chapter Three

Scarlett was not a good judge of character, but unfortunately, her instincts in this instance had been correct. Frank had not taken the news of her buying the mill well. Although that news was received much better than the news of the source of her funds for its purchase. Whether he believed her about her earbobs or not, it didn't seem to matter. No matter what collateral she had offered Rhett, the source of her funds had driven Frank into a fury never seen before.

"How dare you go behind my back? And to that, that, that criminal!"

"I'm doing this for all of us, Frank," she replied, trying to tame the sharpness of her tongue. "You would have never asked Rhett for the loan and then we might never have been able to buy the mill."

"We didn't purchase the mill! You did! You think to un-man me?" he screamed, grabbing both of her upper arms and shaking her until her teeth chattered in her head.

She shifted her legs, bracing and pushing against his chest to pull away from his crushing grip. Finally, she managed to pull away and she turned quickly for the parlour door.

"When you are ready to talk without screaming, I will return." She flung the comment over her shoulder with a confidence she didn't feel and reaching for the door, prepared to slam it behind her to punctuate her anger.

His hands were on her before she could turn the handle and he flung her back until she lay sprawled on the floor at his feet.

"I will tell you when you can leave!"

He stood over her, fists clenched and a fury in his features that she had never believed him capable of feeling. Before she could scramble to her feet, he dragged her up bodily and flung her on the settee by the window. Her back connected solidly with the armrest, her side exploding in a searing pain. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes and she fought for breath against the constriction of her stays and the radiating pain. He dragged her up, ignoring the moans that escaped in spite of her efforts to contain them, and wrapped his fingers in her hair. His mouth covered hers and then his thick tongue forced its way between her lips, choking her as she fought to free herself from his grasp.

Finally breaking away from his assault on her mouth, she struggled to breathe, pushing against his chest weakly.

"I'm not finished yet," he growled, throwing her back down to the settee. He reached down and yanked at the plain black buttons that adorned her simple grey dress. To her dismay, they gave away easily and his hand forced its entrance, squeezing her breast painfully. Still standing over her, caging her against the settee with his legs braced around her skirts, his right hand moved to her other breast as he pulled her hair with his left. Her head tipped back against her will and his mouth assaulted hers once again. His tongue thrust so deeply, she gagged against it. His saliva coated her lips and chin until she couldn't take anymore. Summoning strength from deep within, she shoved him off of her with both hands, rising up and racing for the door.

He was behind her in an instant, slamming her body into the door, the solid wood offering no cushion against the blow. She struggled for breath and might have crumpled to the floor if he hadn't thrown her there first. He stood over her, breathing heavily, his eyes hooded, his face flushed.

"Get upstairs now," he ordered, his tone offering no room for argument. "Get undressed, completely, not so much as a pantalette had better be on you when I get there. Hurry and find Prissy to help you or I will cut those clothes off you myself."

Scarlett struggled to her feet. There was nothing she wanted to do less than to listen to her husband, but fear drove her to obey. She found Prissy cowering in the kitchen and dully told her to help her to her room to undress. The girl quickly went about the business of removing the layers of clothing, studiously ignoring her mistress's eyes and the red marks that were already beginning to purple. Prissy left Scarlett standing in her chemise, thankful to be heading to her room in the servants' quarters at the back of the house. Frank's heavy step on the stairs quickly followed the sound of the servant's exit and Scarlett ignored the pain as she pulled the chemise up over her head.

The door opening sounded behind her, but Scarlett did not turn to face her husband. She stood tall, defiant, almost proud despite her exposed state. Frank didn't notice – all he noticed was that he finally was seeing his wife in all her naked glory. His hands grabbed each side of the rounds of her ass and she flinched at the contact. They roamed to the front of her, crushing her body against his, squeezing first one, then the next breast as his lips sloppily dragged across her neck. Tears escaped silently as she closed her eyes, forcing her mind blank, trying to escape her nightmare.

Suddenly, she was released and after a few moments passed, she opened her eyes only to find her naked husband standing before her.

"Touch me," he urged, his voice gravelled with lust and the residue of his anger.

She stepped back, disgust clearly evident on her features.

His hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, moving it to his manhood. Her hand recoiled instantly with the contact of the smooth, hot skin. Tears again filled her eyes as he forcibly wrapped her fingers around his pulsing member. With his hand over hers, he dragged her fingers along his length and back again. He began moaning, his grip forcing her fingers to tighten further. A liquid began to seep from his tip and, as she felt the stickiness beneath her fingertips, she pulled back forcibly in revulsion.

She had saved her hand from his desecration, but had not managed to put any distance between them. His initial surprise at her retreat overcome, he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her toward the bed. This time, she managed to keep her feet beneath her, stumbling and using the bed to steady herself on her feet.

"I am not finished yet," he growled, turning her and shoving her backward until she lay sprawled on her back on their bed. She shivered visibly, the cold air and fear amplifying her tremors. His eyes impossibly filled with more anger and something else that filled her stomach with dread.

He appeared poised to advance on her when his head tilted, his eyes going to something that captured his attention briefly. Moving quickly to her dressing table, he lifted the chatelaine that Prissy must have left behind in her earlier haste. Hefting it slightly to measure its weight, he dangled its chains between his fingers.

Scarlett's eyes widened in fear. "Frank, no. No, I…. Frank." Stammering, she raised up slightly, pulling her feet up, clambering backward along the bed. He grabbed her ankle, instantly halting her retreat. His other hand swung the chatelaine and she closed her eyes, feeling but not seeing as the chains wrapped fiercely around the flesh of her thigh. He pushed her over and onto her stomach, bringing the chains down again and again. Her back, ass, thighs screamed in protest until she slowly realized that she too was screaming aloud in pain. His hands flipped her back again as the clatter of the chains hitting the floor filled her ears.

"Open your eyes," he snarled and she obeyed. His thin frame was almost shaking with his lust and her mind shrank back from the reality of how much he enjoyed her suffering.

His hands grabbed at her breasts again before spreading her legs wide before him. Gripping her hips, he raised her centre and shoved his manhood deep inside. She could feel the tearing pain, her body barely adjusting before he pulled back and shoved in again, deeper. His mouth covered her breast and bit painfully on her nipple, the pain worsened as his hips pulled away before thrusting forward again. Finally, his teeth released her breast as his thrusts became more urgent. He wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezing as he thrust again and again until she thought she might never breathe again. Suddenly, his hips jerked spasmodically and his hand released her throat to once again hold her hips more firmly as he filled her with his seed.

Satisfied, he dropped on top of her, his sweaty, sticky body pushing her downward into the sheets. His head rested between her breasts while his hand moved to cup the one he faced as his thumb idly brushed at her nipple. Tears streamed in full force, making a path from the corners of her eyes until they disappeared into her hairline. Her body hummed with pain and she struggled to breathe, feeling the bile build in her throat as she fought the urge to vomit. His head raised slightly as he snaked his tongue out to lave at her nipple. She swallowed the sob that rose unbidden in her throat.

"You will sleep in the nude tonight," he muttered, "and you will obey me, wife."

He rose from the bed, pausing a moment to stare down at her damaged body. He pressed his hand at the apex of her thighs, cupping her sex and forcing a finger into her raw centre. Pulling his finger out, he wiped the blood and fluids on her thigh.

"Now, sugar, be sure to be ready for me tonight. Clean and pretty like you always are," he smiled and she cringed inside. "I'll not be home for supper so I'll have Prissy bring a tray up. But I'll be home right after. Be sure to wait for me in bed like I told you."

He picked up the discarded chatelaine from the floor, stared at it for a while before returning it to her dressing table. Pulling on his pants and then donning his shirt just as quickly, his appearance was readily repaired and he exited the room silently.

Scarlett lay still, quietly taking stock of her body, wondering at the extent of her injuries. Shooting pain emanated from her right side where it had connected with the settee. Her legs and back were raw where the chains of the chatelaine had bitten into them and her whole body throbbed from being slammed into the door and onto the floor. Slowly, she fought the ache and crawled from the bed. Pulling on first the soft chemise and then her wrapper, she tugged on the bellpull to call Prissy to her room.

"Please bring some more cool water and some fresh linens for the bed. We might need some linens for dressing too."

"Yes'm miz Scarlett," the usually tempermental maid was quietly subservient.

Upon her return, she hummed quietly and although Scarlett normally found the maid's constant noise annoying, she found the tune strangely soothing. Once the bed linens were changed, she helped Scarlett remove her wrapper and gently washed the blood and fluids from her limbs. Soft linens wrapped over the deeper wounds and then Scarlett donned a fresh chemise. Prissy then brushed her dark strands before braiding them to prevent knots while she slept.

"Want I's ta aks Unc' Peta to brang a tray for ya sup?"

"No, thank you Prissy. I'm not hungry, just tired. I think I will just go to bed."

"Okay, g'night miz Scarlett."

Scarlett eyed the bed and felt bile rise in her throat once again. She did not want to get into that bed naked but she did not think her body could handle a repeat of its earlier abuse. The shooting pain from her side had dulled to a sharp throb - or she had just become accustomed to it – and her back and thighs burned all over and even more intensely where blood seeped onto the linens covering the deeper welts. She glanced at the door and then slowly removed her wrapper and chemise before climbing beneath the warm sheets.

 _Any thoughts? Please feel free to let me know. Scarlet_


	5. Chapter Four

_Thank you so much for the detailed and kind reviews. It is dark matter and sometime hard to read (definitely hard to write) but once the idea caught hold in my mind, I felt that I couldn't not see it through to it's end... wherever that might be. Also, I don't own any of the characters, etc as portrayed here. I am just borrowing them for a little bit. No harm intended so please don't sue. And now, back to our story._

Chapter Four

Later that week, Scarlett felt well enough to pester Uncle Peter to take her out to the mill she had just recently acquired. Her side still throbbed and blood still seeped into the linen dressings in a few of the injuries along her back, but she felt strong enough for a short outing and she needed to see to the mill.

The smell of fresh cut pine filled the air and tall stacks of lumber stood like sentries on either side of the gates to the lumber yard. A small building held an office to the left and at the back of the yard, there were outbuildings for workers' quarters and a small building for them to gather to eat. Scarlett felt energized almost instantly. She met with the manager whom she had met during her purchase. Johnny Gallagher seemed to have a head for business and knew quite a bit about lumber so she had decided to keep him in her employ.

"Hallo, Mrs. Kennedy," he called as she entered the office. Uncle Peter had opted to wait for her in the carriage. "How are you this fine Atlanta day?"

"Just fine, thank you, Mr. Gallagher," she answered, hoping that the dim lighting in the office hid from him the lie in her reply. "How has the week been here at the mill?"

"Well, Mrs. Kennedy, the week has been fine. The mill is humming – in fact, we could meet a few more contracts should we find them. Turned a decent profit too, I might add. Changing the labour to free convicts has helped but I bet I could get more out of them, if you just give me a free hand. Give me a free hand and this mill will sing!"

"A free hand, Mr. Gallagher? She chewed on the bottom of her lip, but couldn't find a reason to decline her manager's request. "Alright, you have a free hand, sir. You just make sure that my lumber is good quality, on time and this mill is profitable and I will not get in your way."

"You won't regret it, Mrs. Kennedy."

"I hope not. Now let me see if I can find some extra contracts for you in town."

She smiled as she left the office, feeling satisfied that she had made the right choice in keeping Mr. Gallagher as manager. Returning to the carriage and grimacing as she pulled herself up, she realized that she had briefly been able to forget her injuries and was once again, happy that she had convinced Peter to take her on the outing.

"It's early still, Uncle Peter, do let's head into town for a while."

Slowly, she directed the old man until they were in the area of Atlanta where the most growth was happening. She had him stop at each construction site, where she would stop and chat with the foreman, slyly slipping in that she had newly acquired a lumber business herself. The men would chuckle, dismissing her as a silly girl and then casually give her all the information that she needed. The price they had paid for the lumber they were using, the mills that had a reputation for providing inferior products so their shipments had to be thoroughly inspected and even some projects that they had coming in the near future. Her wide-eyed innocence and sweet, dimpled smile eventually had every one of them promising to at least talk to her manager about their next project.

Nearly two hours later, a grumpy Uncle Peter was guiding their carriage onto Main Street with the intent to take them both home. He reined in the horses as a rider cut across the street almost directly in front of them and he grumbled about "dem Yankees" under his breath. Getting ready to continue along their way, he pulled up short again as Rhett Butler pulled up next to them from the opposite direction.

"Hello, Mrs. Kennedy, Uncle Peter," he called, tipping his hat in greeting. "A beautiful day for a ride, isn't it?"

"Hello, Captain Butler," Scarlett answered over Uncle Peter's "harumpph" in response. "It is a lovely day. It's almost a shame to go home so soon."

"On your way home then?" he answered. "If you have no need to hurry, why don't you join me for afternoon tea? The National is just up the way and has a lovely veranda to enjoy this early spring weather."

"Miz Scarlett kain stay," Uncle Peter blustered quickly. "She'z gots t'git home. And I'z gots t'git Master Wade from Mz Picard's."

Scarlett bristled at the old darkie. "I most certainly can stay Uncle Peter and Maybelle said that Wade was fine to play with Raoul until suppertime."

"Uncle Peter, how about you go ahead and pick up little Wade while Mrs. Kennedy and I have tea and then I will bring her to Ms. Pittypat's straight after."

"Perfect!" Scarlett answered before the grouchy driver had a chance. "Thank you so much, Rhe…. Captain Butler."

Before he had a chance to stop her, she hopped down from the carriage, taking Rhett's hand as he pulled her up into his buggy. The pain in her side flared briefly with her sudden movement, but she stifled her grimace and smiled brightly at her saviour.

She had been isolated at the Hamilton house for the full week. Her aunt long raised with the Southern dictates of propriety didn't know how to address Scarlett's injuries without addressing their cause and so therefore avoided her altogether. She had never thought she would miss her aunt's company until she found the only person who didn't avoid her was her maid; Prissy certainly didn't offer much in the way of conversation or distraction. Frank brought her supper tray when he came home from the store but his hovering, apologetic manner actually made her crave the silence of her meals from earlier in the day.

These thoughts quickly raced through her mind in justification of her hasty acceptance of Rhett's offer. They drove in companionable quiet for the short distance to the hotel. Handing the reins to the valet with instructions to keep his buggy close, Rhett came to Scarlett's aid as she lowered herself from the buggy. Her shoe caught on the lip of the buggy opening and she stumbled, her thigh jamming against the side of the same opening. She gasped sharply as her injured thigh met the solid frame and she bit her lip to prevent her from crying out.

"Easy, Scarlett, here let me help you." He gripped her around her waist and lifted her down to her feet. "Are you alright," he asked, genuine concern etched on his features.

She nodded, not trusting her voice to answer at that particular moment. The sharp pain was already beginning to fade and she blinked away the tears that it had initially brought to her eyes. Looking up, she smiled slightly. "Yes, Rhett, I'm fine. Let's go inside."

Rhett held out his arm for her and lead them inside. He wondered at her response to the minor bump in the buggy and even more so at the lack of stays he discovered when helping her to the ground. Her waist was still impossibly tiny that he never would have guessed that there was nothing binding her to that small size. He glanced quickly to his side, noting the slight darkness beneath her eyes that her powder failed to fully disguise.

At his request, a waiter led them to a quiet corner of the veranda. He ordered and they sat together quietly, each caught up in their own thoughts. Never one to timidly dance around a subject, Rhett broke the silence first.

"How are you feeling, Scarlett?" In the shaded veranda, the bruising under her eyes was less noticeable, but her pallor leant toward almost grey instead of magnolia white. "Are you well?"

She looked up and met his eyes, feeling heat in her cheeks at the concern she once again found in his features. She felt the bubble of all of her troubles as it rose within her and she was so tempted to let it burst forth, releasing her burdens to his strong shoulders. But the confessing of them wouldn't change them although admittedly talking with Rhett had always made her feel better.

"I was a little under the weather earlier this week," she answered somewhat honestly, "but I am feeling better now. How about you, Captain Butler, have you been well?"

"I have indeed." The waiter arrived with tea for Scarlett, coffee for Rhett and a pastry platter for them to share. "Where were you coming from earlier?" he continued.

"Oh, the mill and then I had Uncle Peter bring me to the new construction area." She continued to happily tell him of her budding business accomplishments. He let her chatter about, nodding encouragingly. All the while taking note of the occasional pause in her movements, the pallor of her complexion, and the intermittent hitch in her breathing.

"Well, I suppose I should get you home to your husband," he fought to keep his tone even as he spoke the word "husband".

"Ah, yes, I suppose it is getting to be that time." She lowered her eyes. "Thank you."

He guided her through the quiet foyer of the hotel, signalling to the desk for his buggy to be brought around. Helping her first, he moved around and hopped up to take the reins. They travelled quietly for the short ride. Rhett thought about what truth there was still to be found about the woman beside him. Scarlett's thoughts were, for the first time, on the possible consequences of her hasty decision to take afternoon tea with a man who was not only not her husband but also not received by the majority of Atlanta's gentry. Alighting as they arrived, he grasped her hand to help her down, wondering at the trembling found beneath his fingers.

"Scarlett?" he raised an eyebrow quizzically.

She joined her hands in front of her and dropped her eyes. "Thank you Captain Butler." She added softly: "it was a lovely afternoon."

She slowly walked through the gate and he thought he could detect a hesitation in each step. He stood watching thoughtfully until the door closed behind her.

 _Thank you so much for reading. If you feel like dropping me a note on your thoughts, that would be very much appreciated as well. SS_


	6. Chapter Five

_Here we are with another foray into this little world. I wanted to thank everyone who has taken the time to review. Some of the reviews have been so detailed and I am truly flattered by those readers who have put the effort into their comments. I haven't found the time to respond to them individually (it's tough enough to fit writing into my days) but maybe I will find the time one day. Until then, please accept my thanks and appreciation here._

 _As usual, the characters do not belong to me and no harm is intended in my borrowing them for this work. Please don't sue me... I promise to give them back when I am done:)_

Chapter Five

Later that night she lie face down, biting down on a cloth as Prissy dabbed gently on the wounds on her back.

"Lawdy, miz Scarlett, I wish'n yous lets me go fetch docta Meade."

"Prissy, just help me please. They're just flesh wounds. Clean them, salve them and wrap them," she ordered through gritted teeth. "I will be fine."

She bit firmly on the cloth as the maid continued with her ministrations. Frank had brought a whip up to the bedroom when he arrived home, clearly having already been informed of how she had spent her afternoon.

'It's not fair,' she thought. 'I didn't do anything wrong. I don't understand why I can't just have a business discussion over tea.' She conveniently ignored the fact that most people wouldn't know that she had a legitimate reason to discuss business with Rhett. That, and that generally it was never acceptable for a woman to be seen unaccompanied with a man in public who was not her husband or her father.

She whimpered around the cloth as Prissy began applying ointment to her raw back. She felt the searing heat following the criss-crossing pattern left earlier by Frank's whip. The angry bite of leather into her skin had been agonizing and after the third crack of the whip, she had mercifully lost consciousness. How many more followed, she did not know, and did not want to know. She lay quietly, whimpering occasionally as Prissy finished her ministrations. Finally, she lay a light cloth across the length of her back.

"Miz Scarlett, I don wanna wrap ya tightly jes yet. But yous caint roll ova. Yous thinks that's okay?"

"Yes, Prissy, thank you. I'm too tired and too sore to move any way."

Three days later, Scarlett was able to sit up in bed, her tightly wrapped back resting gently against a pile of pillows. This was where Frank found her paging through the latest edition of Lady Godey's book of fashion.

"Sugar, I have your dress for the ball tomorrow. Miss Sarah brought it to the store since she had to come by for a few more eye hooks to tide her over until her next shipment arrived."

"The ball? Frank, you can't seriously think that I will go to that ball tomorrow! I can't. I won't."

She thought longingly of the last Mardi Gras ball she had attended. How much fun had she had? The dancing, the food, it had all blended into a wonderful night that had almost made her forget that the war was being fought at all. She had been so looking forward to this night, but not now. Not like this.

"Scarlett, dear, be reasonable. We already bought the tickets and told all of our friends that we will be there. Why, even Melanie and Ashley are coming to visit."

"Frank," she began but then stumbled. In the barely two months that they had been married, they had not once addressed directly the explosive temperament that had permeated their nights. "Frank," she began again. "I can't even wear that dress. I need to wear my stays tightly laced in order for it to fit. I won't be wearing stays for at least a few more weeks."

She felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment and she wondered at it. Why should she be embarrassed? He was the reason for her physical condition. He should be embarrassed. For his part, Frank was looking around the room, anywhere but where his wife lay recuperating in her bed.

"Prissy can let it out," he answered after the long drawn silence. "We'll tell everyone you're feeling under the weather when we arrive. You won't have to dance and we will leave early."

He headed to the door, turning back to her before leaving. "I will send Prissy up with a tray and to start on the dress."

The next night, Scarlett found herself sitting stiffly between her Aunt Pitty and Mrs. Merriweather. Although Prissy had let the dress out enough to be worn without stays, it was still impossibly tight. The scratchy fabric irritated her wounds through the soft linen bandages and her muscles ached already with the strain of holding herself upright and away from the hard chair back. Frank had deposited her between the two women over an hour ago, retiring to the portico with a few of the other older gentlemen. The women gossiped across Scarlett endlessly until finally she needed to escape.

"Excuse me, Aunt Pitty, Mrs. Merriweather," she apologized as she rose in the middle of one of their inane exchanges. "I'm feeling a little warm. I'm going to get a glass of punch and some fresh air."

She made her way slowly around the dance floor, not really in a hurry to arrive at her destination but rather just happy to be moving about the room. The hall had been well transformed with brightly coloured decorations hanging along the windows and doorways and from the rafters above the dance floor. She watched enviously as the couples twirled in time to the music, her mind longing for a body that could allow her to join them.

Eventually, she arrived at the punch station which was basically vacant. She recognized the darkie pouring the glasses from the Meade household, but her name escaped her for the moment. She didn't notice his presence until his deep voice requested a second glass from behind her right shoulder. She turned to face him, dimpling slightly in greeting.

"Scarlett," he raised his glass and she did the same before sipping on the sweet juice. "I'm surprised to find you here and not on the dance floor."

"Uh, well, I don't really feel much like dancing tonight." She shuffled her feet and tugged nervously on the white scarf Prissy had arranged along the neckline of her gown. For his part, as usual, Rhett was impeccably dressed in a black suit and white shirt set off with a burgundy neck tie that very closely matched the shade of her very own gown. A small red rose accented the lapel of his jacket perfectly and she noted that the white of his shirt looked much better on him than the contrast of her own white scarf against her burgundy neckline. She had thought the same when Prissy had made the suggestion earlier, but hadn't had much choice in the matter. And, at least, Prissy had reasoned, even though the back of her dress was too low to hide them, the bandages would be less noticeable if somehow the scarf moved since they were basically the same colour.

"Maybe you just haven't been asked by the right partner, yet."

He raised his eyebrow in challenge and she answered his challenge easily.

"And who would the right partner be, Captain Butler. Certainly you are not suggesting that you would be that man." She fell easily into their familiar banter, smiling at his answering laughter.

"I do not recall your ever having complained about my dancing abilities in the past." The music changed signaling the beginning of a waltz. "Shall we see if I can live up to your new higher expectations?"

He held his arm out for her and losing herself to the music and the moment, she accepted. She floated briefly onto the floor, until his firm hand on the small of back slammed her soundly into the present. The pain of his touch brought an unbidden gasp to her lips and she clenched her eyes tightly against the pain.

"Scarlett, what is it?" his soft tone belied the urgency in his question.

She schooled her features into a teeth-grinding smile. "It's okay," she managed through her clenched teeth. "Just please don't move your hand any more. I'm fine."

Rhett slowed their pace as much as he could without losing time with the music. The lights on the dance floor highlighted her delicate features, frozen in the most insincere smile he had ever seen. He could see now that the purple smudges were still present beneath her eyes and might have even darkened slightly since their meeting less than a week earlier. Her collarbones stood out sharply beneath her scarf and he wondered at its presence on her outfit; her dress was clearly not designed to be worn with one and it hid the fine detail work at the edges of the neckline. He couldn't move his hand on her back, but he was certain that there was no corset forming a barrier between his hand and her waist.

"Scarlett, dear, what's wrong with your back?"

"N…nothing, Rhett." Her eyes begged him not to ask her any further questions.

"Don't lie to me. I cannot tolerate a lie from you. You nearly cried out when my hand touched you and I can feel you sweating through your dress even though we are simply doing a sedate waltz."

"Rhett, I…. I shouldn't have agreed to dance with you. I don't want to draw any more attention, but please when the song is nearly finished can you bring me back to my seat."

Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and she had abandoned the fake smile as her mouth turned into a grim line of determination. The chords signaling the beginning of the final verse filled the room and as they neared Scarlett's aunt, he gracefully exited them from the dancing couples. Frank strode up quickly to meet them.

"Ah, Mr. Kennedy," Rhett greeted. "Thank you so much for the pleasure of dancing with your charming wife. I fear I have already tired her out or perhaps you might bring her for some air."

"Captain Butler, thank you but I think I know what's best for my wife and I believe another dance is in order."

Panic filled Scarlett's features. "Oh, no, Frank darling, could you please bring me for some fresh air? I couldn't possibly…."

"Another waltz," Frank interrupted, "your favourite. I would hate to see you miss out on a chance to waltz with your husband."

"Mr. Kennedy," Rhett interjected. "Pardon me for intruding, but I don't think your wife is well enough for another dance."

"I will not pardon you, Mr. Butler and I will kindly ask that you leave off. She is my wife after all." A slight menace filled his tone as Frank emphasized the word "my". "Who better to know what's best for her than her very own husband."

With that statement, Frank pulled Scarlett after him, turning her until they faced each other and with a firm hand on her back that had her biting her lip, he lead her awkwardly around the floor.

Rhett had been about to chase after them when a restraining hand fell on his shoulder. He looked back to see Scarlett's golden champion and his fists clenched with the urge to hit something.

"Leave them be," he quietly admonished. "You weren't here earlier or you would have known, but Scarlett hasn't danced at all tonight. She cannot just dance with you and then leave. It's just not right."

"Not right," Rhett growled in return. "Something's not right around here Ashley. I will give you that, but my dancing with Scarlett is not it. If you really cared about Scarlett instead of your foolish honour then you would find out what that is." He shoved past the man and stormed out of the hall without a backward glance. He couldn't risk it for fear of what more he might see.

"Please, Frank, I can't…" Scarlet plead, no longer able to mask her pain with a smile.

"One more song, Scarlett," he answered. "And look happy to be dancing more with your husband than any other man here…. Especially the man you conspicuously met for afternoon tea."

Her mind panicked. "I can't, please Frank, I'm sorry." At his obstinance, she continued: "Another song, but not right away, please. I'm hurt. I'm bleeding…." Her head spun as she fought off the dizziness. She would not break down, collapse in front of all of these people. "Can't you feel it?" She dropped her head to his chest as she fought to keep her feet moving. Finally the song drew to an end and she stumbled as her husband lead her off the dance floor.

The next morning found Rhett striding up the steps to the Hamilton residence. He had purposefully timed his visit to ensure the he was well past the time that Frank would have left for the store and well before the time that he would, should he choose to do so, return for dinner.

Uncle Peter's weary visage greeted him at the door.

"Sorry, Cap'n Butler. We's not receivin' comp'ny today."

"Uncle Peter, I know everyone's a little tired after last night's festivities, but I just brought a small gift for Miss Pittypat. Might I come in, just for a moment?"

"Naw sir. Miz Pitty's at Miz Mer'weathu's with Mista an' Missus Wilkes."

"Oh, okay. Well then I'll just leave the present with Mrs. Kennedy."

"Naw, sir, Miz Scarlett's nawt fit fo' seein' no comp'ny t'day neither."

Not to be deterred, Rhett continued: "Just a minute or two, Uncle Peter. I promise I won't be too long. I'm heading out of town for business and I just would like to check up on her and give my farewells."

The old man stood his ground in the doorway. "Miz Scarlett's upstairs and she cain come down t' visit wich you. Ya can leave ya message wi' me."

"Now, Peter," Rhett answered, his tone giving evidence to increasing ire. "I am here to see that Mrs. Kennedy is well so I suggest either you bring her down here to meet me or I will go upstairs to see for myself."

Uncle Peter's stern grimace held fast as wizened dark eyes met determined ones.

"Ya really think thet's gonna mek things betta'? Ya think thet gwine up they's stairs gonna make it good fo' her wit her husban'? Ya think ya comin' in this houz, comin' ta this here door gonna hep Miz Scarlett?"

Rhett held the old man's gaze for a long moment, finding a hint at a painful truth. No matter what he thought, no matter what his history, no matter how many visits before and after the war, Scarlett was not his wife, was not his sister, was not even his mistress and there were limits to even what he could do. Abruptly, he spun on his heel and left.

 _Thank you for reading. Any thoughts, opinions, compliments or criticisms? All would be much appreciated. SS_


	7. Chapter Six

_Okay, here we are again. This post was originally part of one of the earlier chapters, but then took on a life of its own as I was writing it, forcing me to add content before and change up some of the content that comes later. (shrugs) Sometimes the characters tell the writers what to do instead of the other way around. Thank you again for all of the wonderful reviews. I finally found the area in my settings so I can respond to signed reviews and "caught up" on most of those, but to all the guests who are reviewing, thank you as well. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait. Scarlet._

Chapter Six

Nearly a week had passed since her most recent confinement and Scarlett, seeking solitude (and a break from Pitty's constant chatter), struggled against her pain and made her way to the wide front porch that spanned the Peachtree Street home. She reveled in the fresh air and peacefulness while watching Wade play in the yard. He called to her and she waved with her right hand, smiling as the boy continued to romp on the hobby horse Uncle Peter had made for him. As she turned her gaze to the street, she saw a dark figure on a horse making its way down the street. Her eyes narrowed and she recognized the broad shoulders, trim waist and wide-brimmed hat that bespoke the imminent arrival of Rhett Butler. She hadn't seen him in nearly two months but didn't want him to see her in her fallen state. She knew however, that she would never be able to rise and escape to the house before he reached the gate. Bracing herself for his arrival, she smoothed her skirts. A few moments later, he pulled up at the gate and dismounted.

"Why, Scarlett, I am quite surprised to find you at home in the middle of the day. I had heard in town that you managed to acquire a second mill. I fully expected to find you tending to that mill instead of lounging at home?"

"Hi, Unca' Rhett!" Wade called excitedly, preventing Scarlett from responding.

"Well, hello there, Wade Hampton. Don't you just make a fine horseman?"

Rhett opened the gate and entered the yard, not bothering to wait for an invitation. He tousled Wade's chestnut hair before the small boy raced away.

"Wouldn't you agree, Mrs. Kenn…" he broke off suddenly, finally aware of her injury. He closed the distance to the porch and climbed the stairs quickly. Dropping his usual imperious tone, he continued more simply: "What happened to your arm, Scarlett?"

"I, uh, I… tripped on the stairs and fell." Scarlett stumbled, uncomfortable with the lie. The thought of the true cause of her injury brought fresh tears to her eyes and she blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.

"The stairs, you say, that's very unlike you, Scarlett. I seem to recall you being very light on your feet."

Rhett let the unspoken question hang between them as the silence stretched, punctuated occasionally by sounds of Wade's play. He searched her face until her eyes finally met his; he raised an eyebrow questioningly but found only sadness in response.

"I was, I was….." she looked around for an explanation, her eyes falling on her son at play. "I was rushing to Wade… he was having a nightmare and crying and I didn't stop for a lantern so it was dark…"

"I thought you said you tripped on the stairs. Isn't Wade's bedroom on the same floor as yours?"

"Well…" she stammered, "yes, it is but…"

"Scarlett," Rhett warned, "don't lie to me. You are a terrible liar and I will always know when you do. Please," he continued more gently, "just tell me the truth….."

The silence stretched between them. Scarlett chewed on her bottom lip; she was very tempted by the thought of unburdening herself to Rhett. But at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to speak the words. To admit to how she had so terribly messed up her life. How her impulsiveness and singlemindedness had led her to this moment and that there were many times when these days seemed far darker than her worst hunger-filled days at Tara.

"Oh, Rhett, please," she spoke softly, but the plea was clear in her voice. "Please, just, let's not speak of it." Her fingers played with a row of lace on her lap nervously. "Please, let's just talk of other things."

He searched her face, reading the anguish it held and a cold pit of dread settled deep in his stomach. His fists clenched and unclenched and he swallowed the anger that filled him. He really wasn't sure what he had expected her to confess (although in the very recesses of his mind, he knew that he had been suspecting this truth for quite some time), but her refusal to confess at all brought this brutal truth to the forefront and as his mind embraced that truth, he struggled to control the rage that filled him.

Unaware of the emotion he was corralling, Scarlett continued: "Please Rhett, let's talk of something fun. Tell me of where you've been. I've been listening to Aunt Pitty all week. One of your adventures would be a wonderful distraction."

Taking deep breaths to quell his emotions, he scanned her appearance once again – noting her still too thin frame and still too pale pallor until resting on the fabric that supported her arm.

"Come away with me."

He blurted out the words before he even realized that they had been born from his own mind. Once the thought was out in the open, he embraced it and continued: "We can go anywhere. I will take care of you, Scarlett and I promise, you will never suffer with me; you will never want for anything; you will be safe, I promise. Right now. You and me… we can just leave this town and go wherever you want to go. Paris, the Bahamas, New Orleans, anywhere. We'll just hop on my horse and leave before anyone knows a thing."

He watched as hope briefly turned her eyes into gleaming emeralds until the light faded and she lowered them to stare at her lap. They both watched as her fingers fidgeted with the worn lace that decorated her simple day gown. Her shoulders sunk in defeat and a sigh escaped her.

"Oh, Rhett," she continued after a long moment had passed. "What a wonderful daydream, but I have Wade…"

"We'll take him with us."

"… and Aunt Pitty to consider…"

"She has Henry and Uncle Peter."

"… and I, I would need time to pack…"

"I'll buy you whatever you need – and then some."

"… and I have to take care of Tara."

"We'll send money to Tara for whatever they need."

Her vivid green eyes met his dark ones, widening with the energy found in their dark depths. She looked back down at her hand, still fingering the worn lace.

"And what about Frank?" Her words were barely louder than a soft whisper.

"I'll kill him if I have to…. But I promise, you won't ever have to worry about him again."

Her eyes jumped up to meet the growling anger laced in his final statement. She chewed on her bottom lip for a brief moment while she took in his caged energy. His powerful presence promised to take from her all of her burdens and to carry them with ease. She took in the dull, ever-present ache accompanied with each breath. She met his burning, dark gaze and without any further thoughts toward the future or consequences, she nodded her head imperceptibly.

Rhett paused for a beat, only a quick, sharp intake of breath giving evidence to his surprise at her acceptance. Pushing back his surprise, he returned to action. Moving closer to her, he held out his hand to assist her with rising.

"Mrs. Kennedy," he spoke loudly, his baritone carrying clearly, "come with me to inspect the new stallion I have recently acquired."

Scarlett looked at him, her confusion written clearly across her features. He winked at her in answer, while guiding her to the stairs. She leaned against his strength as they made their way slowly down the stairs.

"Wade," Rhett called as they reached the walk, "come with us to see my new horse. His name is Allegro." The small boy raced with excitement to join them.

Rhett opened the gate and as the trio approached the horse, its size seemed to resonate with Wade. The shy boy moved to stand behind his mother, his tiny hands fisting in her soft brown skirts. Rhett knelt so he was at eye level with the frightened child.

"Now, Wade, there's nothing to fear from Allegro," he assured. "He's a fine horse and you are a fine horseman. I know he will perform wonderfully for you. How about I lift you up and you can show me your fine seat?" He held his arms out and Wade moved readily into them.

"Rhett, I don't know…" Scarlett said hesitantly. "He hasn't ridden…"

"Don't worry, Scarlett. I have him." He hoisted the boy up into the saddle and handed him the reins. Wade's four-year old legs barely met the bottom of the saddle, but he smiled proudly.

Rhett, with one hand on the reins, and another firmly gripping the boy's waist, clucked softly to the horse. Slowly, he guided the horse away from the fence and down the street. Wade waved excitedly as they passed Mrs. Meade, who waved back before she realized what she was reacting to.

Scarlett followed slightly behind, worriedly watching her son atop the great beast. They reached the end of the street and she frowned as Rhett continued around the corner.

'Oh, why is Rhett wasting time with this leisurely walk. Wade will just have to get used to the horse. We can't spend forever on this…. We are supposed to be leaving.'

Scarlett's thoughts were interrupted as she rounded the corner to find that Rhett had stopped the horse and was waiting for her. She hadn't realized how much distance had grown between them until she saw that there were several homes spanning the distance between herself and where they waited. She tried to quicken her pace, but the ache in her side intensified and she slowed immediately. She watched them as she approached and saw Wade reach down and pet the animal casually.

'Well, at least he is no longer afraid. Now we can go back and get going,' she thought.

Rhett scanned her face and watched her movements as she approached, reading the pain that their short journey had wrought. The blood seemed to have drained from her face and her breaths came in short, laboured gasps. His eyes narrowed as he tried to determine where her other injuries lay. He knew that surely a simple arm injury could not pull so much strength from her.

"Scarlett," he said softly once she neared, "let me lift you up to ride behind Wade."

She eyed the tall, black beast questioningly. "Rhett, I don't think I can…. I mean, I can't hold on very well with one hand, and I'm not wearing a riding habit."

"Don't worry," he laughed slightly at her concerns of propriety. "We are not going to go faster than a walk so I'm sure you'll manage almost as well as our fine young jockey, Wade. Come here."

He guided the horse to the nearest fence post. "Now, Wade, my son, I need to take the reins for a minute. I need you to use both hands and hold fast to that pommel."

"Okay, Unca' Rhett."

"And I need you move up as close as you can to the front of the saddle. I know you're a big boy, but I need you to make some room for your mother."

He held the reins while the boy squirmed forward, thankful that the horse he had won earlier this week was such a well-behaved beast. 'Sargent Cooper must really be cursing his luck after losing such a magnificent animal,' he thought smugly. He stroked the animal's neck softly in reward for its behaviour.

Tying the reins loosely to the fence, he waved Scarlett closer. He manouevered her until her back was toward the animal and she faced him. She raised her chin slightly and met his eyes nervously.

"Don't worry," he reassured, "I'm going to lift you up and set you on the saddle. You just will have to reach around Wade with your good hand to hold the pommel until I hand you the reins."

"Shouldn't we turn around first?" she asked. "It would be easier for me if you turn the horse first before I get on and we head back."

"Head back? Why would you think we are going back?" He tried to keep the surprise from his features.

"Well, we are…. We are just helping Wade get used to the horse."

"Well, yes we are." He answered and then leaned closer. "But our little walk with Allegro is not going to bring us back to Peachtree. We are headed to the National and then we are leaving this town. This little stroll is the beginning of our escape."

"But, but… but we are going so slow."

"Yes we are, but don't you know that those who move as though they have no hurry in their step, draw the least amount of attention?" He raised an eyebrow and then smiled as he saw recognition fill her features. "Now brace yourself while I lift you up."

He took a step closer and in a single fluid motion, grasped her waist and hoisted her up. Before he had raised her more than a few inches, her sharp cry of pain filled the air and he returned her to her feet. Tears had appeared almost simultaneously with the moment his hands had gripped her. As he released her, she bent over slightly. Her right hand cradled her left as she blew shallow breaths between her pursed lips.

"Christ, Scarlet," he swore vehemently. He eyed her before continuing, "how badly injured are your ribs?"

Her eyes remained closed and she swallowed visibly, but he could tell that she was still in too much pain to speak.

"You need to tell me these things!" he upbraided her through clenched teeth. "I might have seriously hurt you right now. I can't take care of you if you don't talk to me."

A tear traced a path along her cheek and he ran an agitated hand through his hair. Stepping back, he blew out his breath forcefully. Returning to her side, he rested a hand on her shoulder and brushed away the tear from her cheek. He tipped her chin up and she swallowed again before finally opening her eyes. Her breathing had slowed to a more natural pace and he took it as a sign that he hadn't aggravated her injury too much.

"We should just go back." Her words were so soft he might not have known she had spoken if he hadn't been watching her lips. He hated the defeated look that filled her eyes.

"Nonsense, my dear," he paused briefly as the errant thought entered his mind. "Unless you weren't serious about leaving with me."

She searched his face but found his expression unreadable. 'Maybe he has already realized that I am too much of a burden,' she thought. Finding no answers in his unreadable gaze, she lowered her eyes.

"N-no," she answered hesitantly, "but I'm afraid that I can't travel very far. I can't even make it around the block." Her voice rose shrilly with this last statement.

After her small outburst, she peered up before quickly dropping her eyes again and meekly added: "It's too much for me to ask of you."

He clucked softly, almost in imitation to his earlier treatment of the horse. "My dear, I promise you I can manage anything you ask of me. All I ask of you is that you tell me all there is to know, tell me all that you are asking of me."

She looked up and her appreciation was clearly evident on her features. Appreciation and relief and he recognized that his previous long-held estimations of her wholly selfish character were wrong, or at the very least slightly flawed. He looked around then and noticed that they were starting to draw a bit of attention.

"There is a new tea room that just recently opened around the corner," he spoke after a moment of thought. "It's only about a block and a half away; do you think you can make it?"

She nodded silently.

"Good. We will walk there and then you and Wade will enjoy a treat while I ride to the National and arrange a carriage for our travels." He held out his arm for her before continuing: "hold my arm so I can keep track of you. I don't want Wade and I to get too far ahead."

The short walk was painstakingly slow for Rhett, but he knew that the pace was the limit of what Scarlett could handle. The sound of her quick, shallow breaths reached his ears and on several occasions when he glanced her way, he noticed her eyes closed against the pain.

Arriving at the café, he helped Wade down from his high seat and guided the pair to a discreet table off to the side. Pulling out a chair, he helped Scarlett into her seat.

"Come with me, Master Hamilton," he intoned to the small boy still holding his hand. "You can help me pick something out for you and your mother."

The small boy smiled with a four-year-old's enthusiasm for the special fare offered by the café. Excitement punctuated his steps and Rhett allowed the child's naivety to briefly push the circumstances to the back of his mind.

The pair made a path to Scarlett's table – she sat with her back to the corner and Rhett noted satisfactorily that the table almost completely hid the cloth that supported her arm. Wade walked slowly, the plate holding his precious pastry clutched surely in both hands. Rhett balanced a water glass for the boy, with a coffee and sticky bun for the boy's mother.

"Now you two take your time and enjoy your treat and I will return as quickly as I can." With a quick rustle of Wade's chestnut locks, he strode purposefully towards his horse and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Scarlett sipped on her coffee and tried in vain not to let her thoughts wander. Too quickly however she found herself dwelling on her current situation, realizing that she didn't truly know what her current circumstances entailed.

'Rhett asked me to go away with him and I agreed, but what does that mean,' she asked herself. 'Have I just thrown away the last chance of me ever being a great lady?'

These questions lead her to the thought that perhaps she shouldn't continue to follow the path that she had just begun with Rhett and Wade. These thoughts then brought her to what her life would be like should she just leave this little tea room and return to Frank. Her ribs ached as soon as his name crossed her thoughts. How had she ended up in this terrible land of dilemmas; a choice between an uncertain future and a certainly terrible present.

A soft thump-thump sounded, interrupting her thoughts. Before she could process the sound, it happened again, but this time it was concurrent with a slight jostling of the table. The third time the table moved more causing her coffee to slosh over the rim of the cup, soiling the pretty white table cloth.

"Great balls, Wade Hampton!" she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice barely above a whisper. "Look what you've done? Now, sit still!"

"Yes, mama," the small boy answered, hanging his head and stilling his swinging legs.

The pair sat in awkward silence for several minutes, Scarlett scanning the other patrons and passers-by for familiar faces. Finding none, she returned her focus to her son, noticing that he was still sitting quietly, eyes on his hands clasped together in his lap.

"Wade, why aren't you eating your pastry? Don't you like it?" she asked, oblivious to his discomfort at having been chastised.

"Yes, mama," he answered softly.

Scarlett took a sip of her coffee, but when her son didn't begin eating, she finally realized that he was still upset from her admonishment. 'He is even more timid than when we lived at Tara,' she thought, recognizing yet another reason for her to continue into this uncertain future.

"Wade, dear," she spoke softly, "I'm sorry that I got upset but this is a very nice place, mostly for grown-ups, and when you were swinging your legs you caused my coffee to spill. Who knows, if it had been worse, they might have asked us to leave before Uncle Rhett could come back to fetch us. Now eat your pastry; it looks delicious."

The boy straightened, nodded and returned to eating his treat. The pair sat in companionable silence, both happy to quietly observe the comings and goings along the street.

For his part, Rhett's mind worked in tandem to the racing of his horse. They would first travel north, he had decided. They could not travel very far in a carriage – the little he knew about Scarlett's condition told him that much – and all of the reasonable destinations south were far too familiar to both himself and Scarlett. And boarding the train at the depot in Atlanta was completely out of the question. No, if he was going to spirit Scarlett away, they would need to remain unseen and there was no way of achieving that feat at the busy depot. They would travel north to Marietta – it would be a stretch in a carriage especially since it was nearly noon, but they would make it so long as they didn't have to make too many stops. He would have to ensure that the carriage team he secured was suited for long distances.

'Food,' he thought, 'I will ask the kitchen at the hotel to pack us a basket to bring along.'

Mentally, he counted the cash he had on hand, satisfied that he had enough to arrange for all the extras and to include a satisfactory tip to ensure it all came together quickly. He would be able to draw more funds from the bank once they reached Marietta. He also recalled that there was a small shop across from the National; he would make a quick stop there to purchase a few items to help occupy Scarlett's young son for the long ride.

Briefly, the thought to question what he was getting himself into crossed his mind, inserting itself between the symphony of his organization in sharp discord. His carefree bachelorhood was about to become a piece of history and he considered that he was about to become saddled with a fair amount of responsibility. His debate quickly ended as visions of Scarlett's tear-streaked face pushed his questions aside.

He arrived at the National and handed the reins over to the waiting stable boy, tipping him graciously to ensure the fine beast was properly and thoroughly groomed and bedded down. He would include funds for the horse's care as well. He paused at the desk and made all his necessary arrangements with the manager. He quickly climbed the stairs to his room to prepare for their departure. Changing first into more comfortable travel attire, he then packed a few necessities, leaving the rest for the hotel staff to pack up as he had arranged. A trek across the street added a trio of parcels to his solitary travel bag. In total, less than half of an hour after arriving, he was back in the lobby watching as a pair of horses pulled a closed carriage to the entrance guided by a skinny negro barely out of his teens. The carriage quickly departed the walkway at the National and made its way toward the small café on Tenth Street. Finally, his carriage made its way down the cobble stone street that would lead to his pirate's booty.

 _So...? Thoughts on this latest update? Hope it was worth the wait. Thank you for reading, SS._


	8. Chapter Seven

_Okay, let's see if this will work better this time... and again, my apologies for taking so long to update and after an inadvertent cliff hanger. I truly hadn't thought the last chapter was going to leave people questioning whether or not they would escape together so I am sorry for leaving everyone wondering for so long. And now, back to our story..._

Chapter Seven

Enclosed in the carriage, he quietly observed his patrons. Silently, they travelled until more than a dozen miles had passed. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Scarlett, are you certain this is what you want to do?"

She eyed Wade with a raised eyebrow and he allowed the question to hang unspoken between them.

"I am happy to help you," he continued. "But as I've said before, I am not a man who works for free. I expect to be compensated. Do you understand what that means?"

He watched as Scarlett pointedly looked at her young son. "I do," she answered after several minutes had passed. "As you might recall, you were my first choice, after all."

A pregnant pause filled the carriage. Scarlett, embarrassed by her own reminder of the compromising offer she had once presented, turned her gaze down to her hands and missed the momentary look of regret that passed across Rhett's features.

"I am only looking," she continued, "for you to offer me the care that you would have given had you not been in jail when I first returned to Atlanta."

"Okay," he returned, "so long as you understand the terms of our agreement. Going forward, I need to understand the terms as well. Please enlighten me as to the full details of your injuries."

With her left hand, she pulled at the lace edging on the bottom of her bodice.

Waiting several minutes for her to speak, he broke the silence once again:

"Okay, so your arm and your ribs are injured, is there…"

"My shoulder," she interrupted.

"Your arm, shoulder and ribs…."

"No," she interrupted yet again. "My arm is not hurt." She continued practically: "Dr. Meade said I have to keep it still so my shoulder can heal – the ligaments stretched when I separated it. And he said, I only have severe bruises on my ribs, but that I didn't break them. He said that I just have to rest and keep them bound and I shouldn't injure myself any further."

Rhett clenched and unclenched his fists in response to the matter-of-fact synopsis she provided. "Scarlett," his voice was low and she detected danger in its undertones, "please do not ever again say that YOU separated your shoulder, that YOU bruised your ribs. YOU did not do any of these things. HE did them and I will never let him do anything like this again."

Scarlett shrank back in the face of his anger as tears renewed their pathways down her cheeks. Strangely, her tears didn't come from fear of his anger, but rather because his anger reminded her of all she endured. And, that finally, it seemed, she needn't endure anymore.

Wade fidgeted in his seat, no longer as enthralled by the observation of the passing scenery. His movement caused his arm to jostle his mother's injured ribs and she drew in a breath sharply.

"Wade Hampton," she scolded softly, wiping the tears from her face before looking down at her son. "You must sit still. It's a long ride and you need to be a good boy."

"How long, mother? Where are we going?"

"Umm, well," Scarlett looked to Rhett as she realized she didn't know the answer to either of her son's questions. She had been so focused on the leaving that she didn't think to ask about the destination.

"For starters, young man, we are going to Marietta."

"Marietta? I don't know anyone in Marietta," Scarlett exclaimed before Rhett could continue.

"Precisely. It will take us quite a while to get there by carriage, but from Marietta we can catch the train. I haven't fully decided our ultimate destination yet but I didn't want us catching the train in Atlanta or Jonesboro. After this long day of riding in the carriage, I'm sure we will want to spend a few days in Marietta before we board the train so we have plenty of time to decide."

Scarlett mulled this thought over in her mind. It seemed almost as though Rhett was going to let her have some say in where they would go. She had never really been given that choice before in her life. Where would she choose if she could choose anywhere? She had never really been anywhere before so how could she choose.

"Will we be there soon?"

Wade's question interrupted her thoughts. He jumped excitedly in his seat with the thought of his new adventure, bumping against her arm causing her to hiss once again in pain.

Before she could scold him, Rhett said: "Scarlett, why don't you come sit next to me?"

"That doesn't make any sense, Rhett. Wade is a small child; why should you and I be cramped together on one seat and he have an entire seat to himself?"

"You will be more comfortable next to me plus, Mr. Hamilton will need the extra space to enjoy the present I have for him."

Rhett untied the package that sat next to him on the seat and produced a smaller parcel which he gave to the eager boy. Sliding over, he moved the remainder of the package to his lap and patted the seat next to him invitingly. In his haste to open his present, Wade bumped Scarlett's arm again, making the decision to share the seat with Rhett all the easier. As she settled next to him, he placed the parcel on the floor between their feet and Wade tore at the paper holding his gift.

"Yay!" the boy yelled. "Soldiers!"

Scarlett smiled at Rhett, appreciating both his gift for her son and the thoughtfulness behind it. Wade had a smaller set of toy soldiers at Aunt Pitty's and he could sit and play with them for what seemed like hours. These would definitely help to keep him busy for the long trip ahead. She could feel the heat from Rhett's thighs through her thick skirts as they bounced against hers and she thought of the long trip ahead in such close quarters. But he had been right; she was already more comfortable seated next to his warmth than next to the constant fidgeting of her small boy. He was such a big man and he seemed to fill the space all around her – not just on her right side – but his presence was strangely reassuring however. He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly – almost as though he had read all the thoughts that had just run through her mind. Blushing, she turned her head to watch the passing trees and before long, the gentle rocking of the carriage lulled her to sleep.

Rhett looked down at the woman sleeping against him. It was hard to think of her as a woman at this moment – she looked so innocent and young as she slept. He had shifted on the seat when he noticed her eyes drooping, moving his arm so that it rested along the back of the carriage seat and his back leaned into the corner of the seat. Her body half laid against his and her head was now pillowed against his chest and had been for over an hour now. His arm ached a little from being in its elevated position for such a long time, but he worried about her shoulder and wasn't sure if the weight of his arm would hurt her so he kept it where it was. Even in the dim light from the carriage window, the bruises beneath her eyes stood out starkly against her pale complexion. He knew this trip would be hard on her; today was probably the first day that she had left her bed. They would need to spend more than a few days in Marietta in order for her to recover more fully from her injuries.

The remainder of their journey had gone surprisingly well. They had stopped a few times to rest the horses and stretch their legs. These small bursts of activity coupled with his new toys had been sufficient distractions for Wade who was perfectly behaved throughout the journey. Rhett had always known the boy to be well-behaved, but even he had been impressed in his stamina for the journey. Scarlett for the most part had slept and although he didn't doubt that her body needed the rest, he did doubt that this type of rest did much for its healing.

He helped the pair of them from the carriage and directed the stable boy to give extra care to the horses that had worked so hard for them that day. He guided his companions through the doors of the hotel lobby and seated them in a secluded pair of wing chairs. He left them and headed to the front desk.

"Good evening, sir," he greeted the man standing behind the desk. "I would like your best suite of rooms for myself and my family."

The man behind the desk straightened slightly in response to the elegant authority clearly evident in Rhett's characteristic drawl. He shuffled a few papers on the dark surface until Rhett cleared his throat, drawing the man's attention back to him.

"If you're looking to see if you had misplaced a reservation, you needn't bother any further," he explained. "It was a bit of an impulse that brought us to Marietta so my apologies for not stopping to send a telegraph ahead of our arrival. I'm certain that a fine establishment such as the Fletcher House will have no problem finding suitable accommodations on such short notice."

The man stopped shuffling his papers and flipped a few pages over before directing his full attention back to Rhett.

"If you need some time to prepare, then we will take a supper in the dining room, although we are rather tired and dusty from our travels and would much prefer a private meal in our rooms if at all possible."

As he finished his request, Rhett slid a coin across the surface and the manager pocketed it quickly.

"We will need some time to prepare, but our private dining room has not been booked for this evening, so I would be happy to set you and your family up in there while you wait. I will have the maitre'd bring a wash basin for you as well."

Rhett returned to the quiet corner of lobby to retrieve his dishevelled travel companions. Always of impeccable dress, Rhett easily picked out the inadequacies of their attire. His own attire he knew was in the best condition of the three, but he could feel the layer of dust that seemed to permeate his skin. Wade had begun the day in casual play clothes in the yard and the homespun had stood up well to the demands of the day. It's medium brown colour highly adept at allowing the dirt marks to fade to the background but did little to take away from the reduced quality of the small boy's attire. Scarlett's drab day dress also hid the grime from their travels well, but the white cloth that supported her arm was marked with smudges and her hair was dishevelled, having almost completely escaped the confines of the simple knot at the nape of her neck.

The trio moved to the secluded room and Rhett assisted Wade before cleaning his own hands and face. Moving aside, he watched as Scarlett carefully moved the sling aside and washed her hands in the basin, drying them on the now dampened cloth. Her brows furrowed slightly with the movement, but otherwise she gave no evidence to her discomfort. He had requested a simple meal which arrived soon after they had seated themselves after their quick clean up.

They sat in companionable silence, tearing into the tasty ham and greens. Once he had satisfied his own hunger, Rhett noticed that there was still a large amount of food on Scarlett's plate.

"Wade, son," he drawled, "are you still hungry for some meat? I notice that you've eaten all of yours, but it seems your mother might need some assistance with her plate."

The boy's brown eyes lit up and his small fingers snatched a large piece from his mother's plate.

"Wade Hampton, mind your manners!" Scarlett admonished.

"Now, Scarlett, there are just the three of us here and the boy is hungry after such a long day. Why let the food go to waste? Although, I must say I don't know why you have not eaten more of it."

Rhett raised an eyebrow to her questioningly and Scarlett lowered her gaze to her lap in answer. She knew he was right to let Wade eat her extras and after her lean years in the past, she herself abhorred seeing any food go to waste. She had been famished when they sat down to their meal but the few bites she had managed had sat like lead in her stomach.

"You're right," she mumbled and moved her plate closer to her son. "Eat your fill, Wade."

"Thanks, mama," he mumbled around a mouthful. "Thanks, Unca' Rhett."

Rhett smiled indulgently while Scarlett frowned at the boy's lapse in manners yet again. Before she could reprimand him, Rhett interjected: "On that note, I think there are a few things we should discuss."

Scarlett turned her gaze back to the man seated across from her.

"As we arrived here, I realized that, at least until we end up where we will be staying, we should travel as a family. It will make us less conspicuous," he paused as her brow furrowed slightly. "We will draw less attention if people view us as husband and wife and son."

"But, but…." She drew silent as no words came to mind to complete her sentence. They were going to travel as husband and wife even though they were not married – even though she belonged to another man. What would her mother think if she could see her? Scarlett closed her eyes against the thought. She could not think of that now. She could not think of her mother now. If her mother was alive, Scarlett would never have found herself in her present circumstances. All she could hope was that her mother was in heaven and was too busy watching after Suellen and Carreen to worry about the choices her eldest daughter was making.

Rhett turned his attention to the small boy at Scarlett's right. "Wade, now I know that your father was a brave soldier and I could never hope to be as strong or brave as he was, but will it be alright if we play a little game? A game where we pretend that your mother and I are married and that you are my son? You can call me something other than what you would have called your father – maybe papa? What do you think? Does that sound like fun?"

The boys brown eyes gleamed with admiration and Scarlett was impressed by Rhett's handling of the situation. Of how easily he had addressed the boy's hero worship of the father he had never met and adding the 'game' element to their ruse.

"Yes, Unca' Rh… papa," he answered, his smile growing as he voiced the unfamiliar term. Looking over to his mother for approval, he added: "this will be a fun adventure, won't it, mama?"

"Yes, Wade," she smiled softly in return, "it will." Scarlett blinked wonderingly at the tears that had suddenly appeared in her eyes.

They finished the remainder of their dinner and the hotel manager showed up just as the plates were being cleared away to bring them up to their rooms. Their suite of rooms offered a generous amount of space although they did not quite attain the level of luxury that Rhett was normally accustomed to enjoying. The main room was dark with white draperies doing little to offset the oppressive dark walls and wooden floors. A sofa and pair of wing chairs were placed near to a fireplace at the right side of the sitting room. A round table that would serve double duty for meals and correspondence stood closer to the window and two doors fell on the left wall facing the fireplace. Through the open doorway, a large bed could be visible in one room whereas the other held two smaller beds. The manager left the trio who continued with what had now become an awkward silence. Finally, Rhett realized that he would need to take the lead and make everyone at ease.

Leading Wade into the closest room, he broke the silence: "Wade, this is where you will be sleeping - for the next few days at least. Which bed will you take?"

The boy eyed each thoughtfully, taking far too long to choose between the identical beds. Finally, he leapt upon the one that was farthest from the door.

"A fine choice. Now, your next choice will be who will be sharing this room with you – will it be me or your mother?"

Scarlett, initially only half paying attention to Rhett's conversation with her son, perked up with this question.

"Oh, no, Rhett," she interjected. "That bed is far too small for you. You need the other room. Besides, I'm sure that Wade will be more comfortable with me."

"Now, Scarlett," Rhett answered, "it's Wade's room and it's his decision. And, I will be comfortable no matter which roommate he chooses."

Wade straightened with importance despite his kneeling position on the mattress.

"I wan' Unca' … I mean I wan' papa…" he emphasized the unfamiliar term "…to sleep with me. Tonight. Maybe mama can sleep here the next night?"

"That sounds like a great idea," Rhett answered. "Now, why don't we let your mother go and rest and I will help you get ready for bed?"

Wade nodded his agreement. Scarlett, thankful for the reprieve despite her misgivings at the arrangements, kissed her son goodnight and went to the living area of the suite. Sitting stiffly on the chair closest to the fire, she listened as Wade babbled with the over-tired excitement of a young child. As her son giggled at the idea of sleeping in only his underclothes, she realized that she too did not have anything to change into for the night. Nor for the next day for that matter. 'Oh, what was I thinking by running away like this? This is going to be a nightmare. What is Frank going to do when he finds out?'

Her racing thoughts came to a halt with this last as she realized that surely, her husband already realized that she had left. What kind of terror would he unleash when he finally caught up with her? Her heart quickened with this latest thought and she closed her eyes against the unbidden images that rose in her mind. Focused inward, she did not notice that the sounds from the bedroom had ceased nor did she hear the soft closing of the bedroom door as Rhett left the bedroom to join her.

Standing before the small woman, he took in her closed eyes and wondered if it was a sign of more pain. For the most part, she had endured their journey well but now he wondered if perhaps it had been harder on her than she had let on.

"Scarlett," he murmured so as to not shock her and she opened her eyes slowly in response to her name. "You must be exhausted. Let me help you to bed."

She looked up at him with gratitude gleaming in her mossy green depths. She wouldn't have to worry about any repercussions for her actions this night.

Rhett held his hand out and she grasped it allowing him to gently pull her to her feet. He led her to the bedroom with the larger bed.

"No, Rhett, really. I will be fine sleeping in the other room," she protested.

"You might be fine, but I will not be. You need your rest and I will not be comfortable knowing that you might not be. Besides, Wade will be highly disappointed should he wake up and find you next to him instead of me, don't you agree?" He barely paused, not really giving her time to respond. "Now turn around so I can help you with your dress."

"M…my…my dress?" she stammered. "Oh no, I can manage on my own."

"Don't be ridiculous, Scarlett," he countered. "I'm quite certain that your shoulder will prevent you from getting undressed unless you injure yourself further and I'm not going to allow that to happen."

"But, Rhett, it's not proper."

"Proper?" he laughed. "Scarlett, we are far beyond the realms of propriety. We've traveled a long distance unchaperoned. We've checked into a hotel together as husband and wife and have been basically alone in this room for the better part of an hour."

"But, well, but…" she paused searching for her next argument. "You're right," she conceded, "but I'm fine actually. I will just sleep in my dress."

He chuckled. "My dear, don't make yourself uncomfortable by sleeping in a dirty dress just because you are embarrassed. I assure you, yours will not be the first dress I have removed. And I do need you to remove it. I intend to bring it to a dress shop tomorrow to match the size so I may purchase a few items for you."

Seeing that she wasn't turning, he stepped around to her back instead. Gently, he untied the fabric that supported her arm and tossed it on the chair that stood next to the washstand. Slowly, he moved his fingers to the buttons that ran the length of her dress. Starting at her neck, he ignored the defeat in her posture and began undoing the buttons methodically. Reaching her waist, he gently pushed the fabric forward, exposing her back. His breath drew in sharply. He exhaled in anger, cursing vehemently as he did so.

Scarlet flinched in response to his anger and her head dropped lower until her chin nearly touched her chest. Rhett took a step back, his hands dropping to his sides as he took in the angry scars criss-crossing her back. Above her chemise, the raised, puckered flesh was clearly visible and he fought the bile rising in his throat. His eyes traced the welts that were still clearly evident even beneath the light fabric until they disappeared beneath the dressing binding her ribs. He had seen the results of a whip when he had been a young boy on his father's plantation, but never had he seen such marks against such perfectly pale skin. The welts made the evidence of her other injuries – vivid purple and blue marbling that peaked above and below the bandages – seem minor in comparison. Taking another deep breath, he fought to control the rage that surged through him.

As time stretched, he noticed a slight straightening of Scarlett's posture. Her chin raised as well and he found himself admiring the strength and determination she had corralled. She stood before him battered and broken yet beautiful and strong. She swayed slightly as she stood before him and he tamped down his anger until it only seethed beneath the surface. With her good arm, she moved to finish the removal of her dress and he stepped forward to intervene. Slowly and gently, he assisted her with removing her arms from the sleeves. Then, he helped her balance as she stepped out of the pooled fabric at her feet. She moved to step past him, but his hand on her arm stayed her. A finger to her chin tilted her eyes up to his.

"I am so sorry, Scarlett," his voice rasped with emotion and tears filled her eyes. "I will never let him touch you again. I promise you. I will never let anyone hurt you again."

She held his gaze for a moment until one tear escaped from her eyes and she broke away, moving quickly to the bed. He was at her side again, pulling back the bedding, fighting the urge to lift her into the bed. To hold her and soothe her and erase all the damage he had seen. Instead, he waited patiently as she cautiously climbed beneath the covers and tucked them around her as he had done her son earlier that night.

"Rest, my dear," he whispered and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead.

Her eyes began to droop almost the moment that her head met the pillow. Rhett allowed himself a soft caress of her cheek before straightening to leave. Retrieving the dress from the floor, he closed the door behind him and headed to the decanter held on the table next to the fireplace. His hands shook as he prepared to pour his first glass and he forced a breath out, steadying them enough to pour the amber liquid without clinking the glass or sloshing any of the liquid. He closed his eyes against the soothing burn; unbidden, the image of her scarred back filled his mind. He filled the glass and tossed back another before settling on the chair next to the table. He lit a cheroot and processed his circumstances.

'As you might recall, you were my first choice, after all.'

The memory of her statement replayed unwillingly. He could have prevented this – if he hadn't let his ego get in the way. If he hadn't been so offended that day in the jail when for the first time in all their years of acquaintance, she had actually been able to fool him, if ever so briefly. He had been so angry once he recognized her ploy that he hadn't thought of anything else. He had been her first choice. She had needed salvation and the only property she had to offer in exchange had been herself. And, she had offered it to him and he had been so angry that she hadn't come to him in love alone that he couldn't look past it. He hadn't been able to see that she had still chosen him. Granted, there were not many others to choose in such lean times, but there still were others as her current marriage stood in clear evidence. She had chosen him first and he had turned her away. Turned her away and now she lay broken in the room next to him because he had been too proud to accept what she had offered.

"Ahh, hell," he muttered aloud and poured another glass. His fingers raked through his dark hair. It was going to be a long night. The anger that burned beneath the surface would not let him sleep, he knew, for hours yet to come.

 _Thank you for reading. If you have any thoughts, please feel free to share. SS._


	9. Chapter Eight

_Finally, I am back! I was very surprised when I finally etched some time to check in and saw that 3 weeks had passed since I last updated! I am so sorry for the long gap between updates and thank you so much for everyone who took the time to review. I did read them (even the PMs) even though I haven't found the time to respond as of yet and truly appreciate the feedback, constructive criticisms and words of encouragement. Hopefully this latest installment was somewhat worth the wait. SS_

Chapter Eight

The morning came and despite having only a few hours of sleep and more than a few glasses of whiskey, Rhett managed to continue to lead his new family in the plans for the day. He refused to give Scarlett her dress which forced her to eat her breakfast in bed and remain there while he brought Wade with him to prepare for the next stage of their journey. A visit to the dressmaker's shop first had yielded a couple of serviceable garments for which his generous purchase offering had helped persuade the owner to sell to him instead of the rightful purchasers. They would return later after the dressmaker had completed a few quick alterations so they would match the size of the sample dress he had provided. A wrapper and undergarments were promised as well as Rhett had explained that his wife's luggage was mysteriously slow in coming from their previous hotel and that she refused to wear her travelling dress any longer.

Wade's clothing came next and was much easier to find at the general store only a few blocks from the hotel. There they added another book for the boy and a satchel to carry their quickly increasing belongings. Knowing that Scarlett's wardrobe would not yet be ready, Rhett returned to the hotel to deposit the items he had purchased so far and to share a quick afternoon meal. He found Scarlett sleeping as he had hoped he would. Leaving her to sleep until their meal arrived, he helped Wade with getting cleaned up for their midday repast and changing into his new clothes. Anticipating the imminent arrival of their meal, he returned to the bedroom to wake his sleeping charge. He eyed her peaceful visage and for a moment, forgot about the trauma she had endured that was hidden by the bedclothes.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he brushed a tendril of hair from her face. "Scarlett, darling," he said, his voice barely above a whisper so as to not scare her. She stirred slowly, then stiffened as she wakened fully. Pulling the blankets tight, she quickly moved to sit up, a grimace marring her features as she did.

"Uh, Rhett, sorry, I must have fallen asleep," she stammered.

"It's quite alright," he smiled. "You were supposed to. You need to rest after all, so we can continue our journey."

"Now, I have our dinner on its way up," he continued. "But unfortunately, your clothes will not be ready until later today. So, you may wear my smoking jacket today but I will have a proper dress for you in time for supper."

A soft knock sounded at the door to their suite, preventing any argument from Scarlett regarding her attire – or lack thereof. Climbing from the bed, she wrapped herself in the soft silk, surrounding herself in the soothing smell that was unmistakeably Rhett. She heard him thanking the maid and closing the outside door and entered the sitting room afterward. She seated herself at the table next to Wade, ruffling his hair in silent greeting.

Rhett placed a bowl in front of each of them, followed by a plate of corn bread. The distinct smell of fish filled her nostrils and her stomach rolled in protest. Rhett watched as she paled impossibly and swallowed noticeably. His brow furrowed in thought. Wade, oblivious to the goings-on around him, happily began spooning the thick broth into his mouth.

"Are you alright?" Rhett asked. She nodded in answer, reaching a slightly shaking hand for the water glass at her left. She sipped from it cautiously and then returned it to the table. Shifting the cornbread closer, she picked a small piece off and began to chew. The bread was dry and she struggled to swallow it, but her stomach didn't roll over again so she reached for another piece.

"I'm sorry," he spoke again as he began to eat his stew. "I didn't realize that you didn't like seafood. I can go down and get you something else."

"No, no, it's… I mean, I usually do, but I guess I'm just not feeling that well. The cornbread is just fine."

"Actually, it's rather awful, but it will do for today." Their hotel clearly didn't boast the best of cooks. "I will look for another place for us to sup in a few days once you are feeling a little better."

They continued to eat and his mind worked as they did. He knew she should see a doctor. That her injuries and symptoms seemed in some respects unrelated and he feared there was something else that he should be aware of and as such, taking care of as well. Dr. Meade was an old man, educated long ago and perhaps there was something that he had missed in his care. They needed a doctor, but he didn't want to find one here. This was a brief stopover and too close to Atlanta for his liking. Not that he feared Frank finding them – he would actually enjoy a confrontation with the son of a bitch. But, he knew the repercussions of them being found. He could find himself back in a jail or worse and Scarlett…. Well who knows how many reprisals she would suffer were she to be found with him right now. No – they needed to get some distance and then if she was still unwell, he would get her the medical help she needed. So first, she needed her strength.

"Please try to have a little of the stew. It will help you get your strength up."

She wrinkled her nose and sipped at the broth, swallowing visibly. More bread followed before her next spoonful and she continued slowly as her other two companions completely finished their meals.

After their meal, Scarlett was left alone once again. Rhett had noticed a small park in their brief travels and thought that some outdoor time would serve Wade well. He stood leaning against a tree while the small boy chased butterflies and romped in the open space. His mind pushed through his churning thoughts, bouncing from their dilemma of leaving and the countering dilemma of Scarlett's health.

'And then what?'

Was he really prepared to take Scarlett as his mistress? And what other choice did he have? Did she have?

He shook his head to clear those thoughts from his mind. He didn't have time to ponder the 'then what's' of his world. He needed to focus on the 'now' and the 'what's next'. For now, he needed to determine how long they would remain here and where they would head next. Having never spent any time in Marietta previously, he was surprised to find how small the town really was. He had commented at finding a new place to eat, but didn't think they would have much luck in that area. He also hadn't noticed a branch of the First National bank and realized that he might not be able to conduct business and access funds as easily as he could in a larger town. The dilemma this raised was whether to make a short trip back to Atlanta to wrap up a few loose ends or push Scarlett to leave more quickly and conduct his business at their next destination.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Wade charged in his direction, brandishing a stick as a sword. "Yield, Yankee!" he called. "Yield, or you will die!"

Chuckling, he held his hands up. "I yield, I yield! But I am a grey coat! I'm on your side."

"But your uniform is blue," Wade answered back, smiling.

"It's all but a ruse," Rhett answered. At Wade's furrowed brow, he amended: "A trick so I could learn secrets about our enemy."

Wade motioned Rhett closer and he knelt down at the boy's eye level.

"Let's go get them," the boy grinned and raced away. Rhett trotted after, joining the boy in his play.

Supper that evening was a repeat of the meal earlier in the day. Rhett and Wade ate heartily despite the subpar quality of the meal while Scarlett picked away. He repeated the previous night's routine, helping Scarlett to rest by the fire while he assisted Wade with his evening ablutions. He read to him from the larger book he had purchased and just as the prince had awakened the beauty whose skin was as white as snow were the boy's eyelids drooping in sleep.

Walking quietly from the room, he was pleased to find that his other 'roommate' was looking less ready for bed than she had the night before.

"Would you care to join me in a night cap?" he asked, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "I would be happy to send down for some wine if you prefer."

"I think maybe," she answered hesitantly, "maybe it would be best if I just had some water."

"Nonsense," he answered. "Although you may be right and perhaps wine wouldn't do you very well at all. I will send down for some tea."

He went down the hotel kitchen and asked them to bring up a tray. They prepared it for him immediately so he chose to wait and bring it up himself. Returning to the room, he balanced the tray as he entered. She smiled wanly at him and he busied himself pouring her a cup and delivering it to her side.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "And, thank you again for the dresses. They're lovely."

"They'll do," he countered. "But I appreciate that your southern belle upbringing stopped you from saying as much as well." She smiled around her cup in response. "And I'm afraid they are probably the best we will find in a town like this."

"Honestly, Rhett, they are perfectly fine. Thank you for taking care of Wade for me for today. I hope he wasn't too much of a handful."

"Of course, he was no trouble at all. I will bring him back to the park tomorrow. I'm sure it will do him some good to get some more fresh air."

Rhett settled into the wing chair facing her, sipped from his whiskey and then lit a cigar.

"Scarlett, I need you to be honest with me about how you're feeling," he said after a while. "As I alluded earlier, this town is a little smaller than I thought. I have business that will need tending and I don't think it can be done here."

He paused to draw on his cigar and she fiddled with the lace edging on her sleeve. He frowned as he observed what he had recently learned to be a nervous tendency on her part.

"If you think you will be ready by the end of the week for a train journey, then I will be able to wait. But, if not, then I will need to return to Atlanta for a day or two."

She chewed on her lip. Her shoulder injury had subsided to a dull ache which was more than bearable and wouldn't hinder them for travelling. But her ribs still attacked her with sharp pains from time to time. In addition, a new dizziness had been plaguing her for the better part of the day.

"I, I think I will be ready to travel," she answered quietly.

"Alright, Scarlett, but you need to tell me if anything changes. I don't want to have you pushing yourself and then making things worse."

She nodded silently in answer.

"I mean it."

"Of course, Rhett." She paused to sip again from her cup. "Where will we go next?"

"Well, I haven't fully decided yet. I would prefer somewhere on the coast. It makes it much easier for business and I do love the smell of the fresh sea air. Savannah isn't too far by train or even Charleston although I do have some family entanglements there." He winked as he said this last.

Scarlett stifled a yawn before replying. "I have family in Savannah – my grandfather Robillard and some of my O'Hara kin are there too."

"I guess we wouldn't be Southerners if we didn't have family in every city in the South." He chuckled, rising to the table and refilled his glass. Instead of returning to the chair, he sat on the sofa next to her. The warmth of his legs permeated through her skirts and she found herself unconsciously leaning closer.

"Rhett, do you, do you think, I mean, what will people say? Maybe…." She let the word fade, not really sure how to give voice to the questions in her mind. She wasn't sure what she was asking but just knew that speaking with Rhett always helped her sort things out.

He shifted so he was angled toward her. He could see how drained she had become just from the slight efforts of her evening. Her furrowed brow and the nervous plucking of her fingers clear evidence of the conflict on her mind. He reached for her hand and wrapped it in both of his.

"Scarlett, dear, don't worry about what people will say. I've told you many times, a reputation is highly over-rated. It is definitely not worth what you've endured." Raising one hand, he brushed at an errant tear that slipped down her cheek. "But, if this isn't what you want, I will still help you. I will find you a home in a new place where you can start over. Sweetheart, don't worry about this right now. Just worry about getting yourself well."

She closed her eyes and leaned into the hand that still cupped her cheek. He pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead before standing, pulling her hand with him.

"Let's get you off to bed," he said, his soft drawl washing over her. She used their shared grip as leverage to rise up as well, squeezing his hand slightly and then more tightly until the latest wave of dizziness faded.

He assisted her for the second time that day with her wardrobe. Even having steeled himself against the visual assault of her wounds, he yet again found the anger coursing through his veins. Returning to the sitting area, he tossed back the contents of his glass, filling it again in preparation for another long night.

'As you might recall, you were my first choice, after all.'

 _Thank you for reading. Will try to post the next chapter more quickly this time:)_


	10. Chapter Nine

_Okay, all of a sudden, copy and paste isn't working for me. Let me try this again. Thank you to everyone who has been sticking with this story and reading for this long. Sorry that the updates haven't been coming along as quickly as they were earlier, but hopefully since this is a longer one, it was worth the wait. I also would like to sincerely thank everyone who has taken the time to share their thoughts and comments. I truly appreciate each little note. And now, back to our story….._

Chapter Nine

Two consecutive late nights filled with over-indulgence of alcohol meant that Rhett, typically an early-riser was still in bed after the dawn had come and gone. Waking, he stretched in his small bed before rising to start the day. Listening for sounds of movement from either of the suite's other occupants and hearing none, he closed his eyes for a few more moments.

Suddenly, he heard the urgent pounding of footsteps followed by the distinct sound of retching. Rising quickly, grabbing his robe and donning it as he went, Rhett ran to the adjacent bedroom. Here he found Scarlett, barely hanging onto the chamber pot with her one good arm, her back curled with the effort of expelling what could only be the remnants of last night's supper. With each spasm, she moaned painfully and he could only imagine what this vomiting session felt like on her bruised ribs.

Reaching her side, he brushed the hair back from her sweaty brow and stood close enough so she could lean against him. His own stomach flipped in sympathy but he fought down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. She continued with her painful retching while he gently stroked her back in an effort to soothe her. A few minutes later she quieted, trembling silently against him.

"Let me get you some water to rinse your mouth," he offered gently. He moved quickly to the bedside pitcher, hesitant to leave her for even a moment, but sure that, were he in her position, he would want the water more than the comfort. He poured a small glass and dampened a cloth as well. Returning to her side, he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her as she sipped cautiously, swirling the liquid before spitting into the basin at her side. Her nose wrinkled in disgust and Rhett, catching the basin's contents out of the corner of his eye, quickly turned them away from the stand. Scarlett stumbled with the movement and her knees gave way suddenly. Not wanting to hurt her, Rhett supported her weight as he allowed them both to slide to the floor.

"Hush, hush, my dear," he murmured. Taking the damp cloth, he wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead and continued to press its coolness against her cheek and neck. Her head settled on his shoulder as he rested his back against the side of the arm chair that sat near her bedside table. His legs were stretched out in front of him, but her knees were curled up against her chest and she formed a small ball that rested against him. His hand stroked the thin fabric on her arm and he could still feel her trembling beneath her nightgown. He murmured nonsensical words against the top of her head, stroking her arm until her trembling stopped.

"Alright, now, let's get you back into bed."

Settled once again beneath the covers, Scarlett laid quietly as she listened to the occasional sounds of what she assumed were the sounds of Rhett getting dressed. She heard the door to the suite open and close and then again a short time later. A soft tapping on the bedroom door proceeded his entrance and she kept her eyes on the coverlet, fingering the edging as he placed a tray on her bedside table.

Rhett eyed the nervous movement and also noted the blush that had slightly colored her wan features. He knew that she was embarrassed at having been found earlier that morning but felt she should be more concerned with her physical state than any concern over her appearance to him. However, he also knew that this was not the time to discuss such items so he left them unsaid.

"Scarlett, I am going to take Wade with me while I check on a few more things around town. We may not return in time for dinner so I have asked the cook to have some soup brought up for you this afternoon. I instructed her to knock and then enter and to bring the tray into the bedroom. Other than that, I have ordered that you are not to be disturbed."

"Really, Rhett," she replied. "You are making such a fuss. I'm fine…."

"Stop, Scarlett," he interrupted, anger quickly coloring his tone. "You are not fine and you seem to be worse than when this journey began. Please just try to eat something and rest. I will keep Wade busy till much later this afternoon and we will return in plenty of time for supper. You will be fine alone, won't you?"

"Of course. I'm feeling much better already. I think you're making too much of this, but I will stay here and rest if you wish."

"I do." He stood silently for a moment and then moved closer to her bedside. Bending slightly, he pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

Wade appeared in the doorway then, preventing her from responding or thinking about Rhett's chaste kiss. She noted that her son's shirt was not properly tucked into the waist of his pants, but his face was scrubbed clean and his soft brown locks looked a little less disorderly than usual.

"Mornin' mama," he smiled and waved at her from the doorway. "Unca', I mean, papa is takin' me esplorin' today. Wan' us to find sumpthin' for you?"

"No thank you, sweetheart. You have a fun day."

She watched from her bed as Rhett grasped the small hand in his strong one. She noticed that Rhett didn't need to slow his pace to match Wade's as the latter was so full of energy that he skipped happily along beside him and out the door.

She sat quietly before picking at some breakfast. Her mind wandered in the silence and she couldn't help but ponder again her current circumstances. Rhett was being so wonderfully helpful and kind. He seemed almost a completely different man from the man who would regale her with jabs and jeers at the Atlanta gentry. She sighed in frustration at her inability to understand the enigma that was Rhett Butler.

'Tomorrow,' she promised. 'I will think about Rhett tomorrow, about whether he really could be this kind or if there is more to his schemes.'

She thought again on their conversation from the previous night. He offered to help her and not hold her to the unspoken bargain they had struck. But, if she chose to take him up on this offer, what would she do? Where would she go? Where would she want to go and would she want to go anywhere without Rhett?

This last thought took her by surprise. Why would she be worried about not having Rhett by her side? She knew that she certainly wasn't looking forward to the eventual payment of her side of the bargain. Forgetting the times, 'oh how will I ever forget those times', but forgetting the times when Frank had….. even her mind stumbled to name what she had suffered at the hands of her husband. But there had been other times when she had experienced the intimate relations with her husband and although those times hadn't been overly painful, they had been humiliating and unpleasant. But, unpleasant and humiliating had been something she was willing to suffer to end the suffering at Tara. And, it had been something she was willing to endure again when Rhett had offered her the chance to escape.

But now? He was offering her an escape that didn't come with nights of unpleasantness or humiliation. But in exchange, it might also mean that it would be the end of his comfort and conversation. She couldn't imagine that he would remain by her side without her keeping up the other end of their sordid agreement.

What should she do with this latest choice? And why was Rhett offering it to her?

Scarlett closed her eyes at the circle her brain had been traipsing. She was more confused than when he had left her this morning and more tired with the constant questions rolling through her mind.

'What if he doesn't want me anymore?'

This last question stood out so starkly that all the others faded away. What if the reason he was letting her out of their bargain was because he didn't want her anymore? She was thinner than she ever had been, her skin no longer the white of magnolias but rather a ghostly pale that only accentuated the smudges beneath her eyes. Her waist was tiny still, but her hips didn't flare out as they once did; her breasts didn't fill her bodice without the assistance of stays anymore either. She was not the girl he had danced with and 'courted' for all those months in Atlanta.

She was broken… and scarred.

She didn't want to think about how the once blank canvas of her back had been painted with the slashes left by Frank's persistent brush. Unbidden, tears rose to her eyes. Rhett had seen her back and all the other evidence of how she was no longer the woman she had been. He had seen it all and decided that he didn't want her anymore.

She shook her head slightly. Why was she so upset? This was her way out. This was her way to escape without paying the ultimate price. This was her way to keep herself and her son safe without having suffer disgrace in the process.

But she had a feeling that this new development still had its sacrifices as well. She would still be away from Tara and her family, from Melanie and Ashley and even silly old Aunt Pitty.

'Why, this is the first time I've thought of Ashley since this trip has begun. I wonder why I haven't thought of him before now.'

She shook her head again and pushed the curious thought to the back of her mind. For now, she returned her focus back to the matter at hand. She would be away from her family, friends and Tara, but that was always the case since the moment she had taken Rhett's hand. She might not have thought fully on the results of her actions at the time, but the long buggy ride to Marietta had given her plenty of time to think. Even with her long bouts of slumber, she had still found the time to ponder their course. She knew that she was all but saying good-bye to her old life. And, even though there were many good things and people that she would miss, she knew that she couldn't bear a life with Frank any longer simply for the want of keeping them in her life.

No, changing the terms of their agreement hadn't changed any of that for Scarlett. It had only changed one thing – or person – and that was Rhett. Was she prepared to leave everything behind without him by her side? She hadn't given the matter any thought previously because she hadn't needed to think on it.

Closing her eyes once again to the turbulent thoughts of her mind, she allowed the pull of sleep to claim her. The remainder of the day passed quietly for her with long bouts of slumber broken up occasionally by the thoughts of the questionable future that lay ahead. Despite the many hours that she spent alone in their suite, Scarlett was surprised at how quickly the time passed and before long she heard the sounds of them returning from their day.

"Hello, Scarlett," Rhett smiled as he entered the room. "I must say that you look much better rested than you did when we left this morning."

"I am, thank you," she answered shyly.

"Wade is in the other room getting cleaned up. I've taken the liberty of arranging for our supper to be delivered in the next hour. Do you feel up to joining us or would you like a tray in your room?"

"Oh, no, Rhett, I would like to get up for a bit. Perhaps you can see if the hotel has someone who can help me get dressed."

"I will help you, Scarlett." He held up a hand before she could protest. "I don't want to hear any of your arguments about propriety either. We are long past that don't you think?" The slight blush to her cheeks was answer enough but she still didn't move to get out of the bed. "Scarlett, we are still very close to Atlanta and I'm sure that more than a few people have taken notice of us. Do you realize what they will think if they see the marks on you? They will think that I've done them. They will think that I'm keeping you locked away so that maybe I can do more. They might try to intervene…. And then what?"

Scarlett turned her eyes down and stared at her hands as they twisted in her lap. The uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

"Darling, when we get to another city, to a place where there are people that I know and trust, I will be happy to hire a lady's maid to help you. I know it makes you uncomfortable, but it's just for a little while longer. Now, do you need me to help you out of bed or can you stand on your own?"

"I can do it…. I can, I can really do almost everything. It's just my shoulder that makes it troublesome."

She shuffled sideways on the big bed until she was closer to the edge and was able to get out on her own. She stiffened as he approached, feeling helpless and exposed in her sleep dress. Despite her resolve not to, she flinched when he reached out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She realized at that moment that her hair must look a fright, having not been brushed for nearly two days now. She bit her lip, her earlier thoughts rising forth as she again thought of how little appeal she offered him any longer.

Rhett paused when she flinched at his touch. She had looked so young and vulnerable in her disheveled state that he couldn't help but to reach out. He tamped down the anger that surged at her evident fear, dropped his hand and took a step closer.

Focusing on the task at hand, he spoke quietly, hoping to calm her fears. "Let's start with your left arm," he said. "The gown is nice and loose so I should be able to slip your arm out of the sleeve without moving it much. There," he continued once her arm was free, "just hold it still against you while I take care of the rest."

He gathered the billowy fabric from the floor until he was able to pull it over her head from the right side, finishing with just her good, right arm still in its sleeve.

"See, that didn't hurt much, did it?" he said in as much as confirmation as a distraction from the now much more visible injuries on her back. He eyed the linen that was wrapped around her ribs and her chemise, noting the traces of dirt still evident on both.

"Scarlett, let's get you properly cleaned up now. You can't be comfortable sleeping in all that road grime and I think it might be a good idea to give your ribs a break from their bindings."

Although Scarlett did agree that she was highly uncomfortable, she shied away from his plan. Although he had seen much more than she had ever wanted him to see, this meant that Rhett would see everything and she wasn't prepared for that.

"Oh, no Rhett, I'm fine, I'm, I'm… well, I don't need…. Dr. Meade said I should keep my ribs bound," she finally grasped at a viable reason.

"Nonsense, it will just be for the night and I will get the linens laundered or buy new ones and then we'll set you right back up." Before she could reply, he began loosening the bandage, his fingers brushing lightly against her until they were released. His presence enveloped her as his hands passed the material from one to the next, making repeated laps around her waist until the last of the material fell away and she felt the freedom to breathe a little more deeply. He reached down and once again gathered up soft material until it rose up to her waist. She had been resolutely staring at his chest, not daring to meet his eyes, but now she lowered her head to stare at her toes. This time he coaxed her to pull her good arm through the garment first, then her head until finally with very little movement from her left arm, the last of her clothing was fully removed.

Rhett clenched his jaw in time to the clenching of his fists as his wounded angel stood before him. The purples and greens of the bruising along her waist and ribs were much more vivid now without the gauzy fabric of her chemise to disguise them. His ministrations had left him standing at her side and she had instinctively turned to shield her breasts from his sight, unwittingly exposing her ruined back to him. The stark red welts stood out in sharp contrast to her impossibly pale skin and not only ran the full length of her back but also across her buttocks and thighs too. She had begun this exercise with her chin set, her back straight, her head not high, but determined. Now her back was hunched over, her head hung low, her chin was down and he hated the visual evidence of her broken spirit almost as much as the damage evident on her body.

Exhaling forcefully, he reined in the emotions racing through him until he could once again trust himself to speak softly. "Let me help you wash before you get dressed."

"No, no," she stammered in response. "I can do it just fine."

"Don't be silly," he answered, fighting to keep the frustration out of his voice. He walked over to the wash stand. "Here, I will keep my back to you but let me help you." He quickly rolled up his shirt sleeves, lathered up the soap in the cloth and wringing it out so that it wasn't dripping, he held it out, keeping his head turned in the opposite direction.

Scarlett hesitated only a moment before giving in. She did feel dirty and grimy and didn't see any other way to remedying that any time soon. Taking the soapy cloth, she wiped her face, neck and carefully her injured left shoulder and arm. Rhett's arm was still outstretched and she placed the cloth in his waiting hand.

"Can you rinse it for me?" she asked quietly.

He did so wordlessly, holding the clean cloth out for her once again. A minute later it was back in his hand. "A little more soap please."

He complied and they repeated this exchange a few more times until finally she dropped the cloth in his hand and then timidly asked for him to help her wash her back. Rinsing and lathering the cloth once more, he turned to find her standing with her back to him. He looked at the angry scars and then the coarse cloth in his hand and returned it to the now slightly soapy water in the wash basin. He grasped the soap and lathered it up in his hands. The marks felt odd beneath his fingertips, the raised borders forming a blip against the straight lines of her back, but the skin between, the actual scarred tissue was incredibly smooth. Her back was fully healed but he could tell that it was only recently and his mind went back to that night when he had held her at the ball. His fingers remembered the moisture he had felt as they danced and with a sickening sensation that caused the bile to rise in his throat, he realized that it had been her blood he had been feeling that night. Shaking his head to clear the unbidden image from his mind, he returned to the task at hand. Turning to the basin, he rinsed his hands and knowing now that the material wasn't too coarse for her healed wounds, he used the cloth to wipe the soap suds from her skin. Taking the towel from her hands, he gently blotted her back dry.

Leaving her at the wash stand, Rhett went to the wardrobe to choose from the meager offerings there. He selected a pale blue day dress with black piping that set the color off nicely. The fit of the dress was rather plain and the high collar and long, straight sleeves demonstrated clear evidence that other than the piping detail, fashion had not really been taken into consideration during its creation. As had been the case with the other dresses he had purchased for her, the fit was such that Scarlett, in her current underweight state, would not require any lacing or stays. He returned with the clothing, quickly helping her don her chemise. He noticed her relax almost immediately once her naked state was once again hidden from his immediate view. If he was completely honest with himself, he felt a little more relaxed without her injuries blatantly displayed as well. Silently, he assisted her with the day dress until finally she stood before him looking much better than when he had first entered her room.

"I think," he paused to clear his throat, surprised at the catch in his voice as he had first begun speaking, "I have an extra necktie that should serve well enough to support your arm. At least for tonight."

He reached the door to her room when she called his name, stopping him before he could open the door.

"Do you have, I mean, do you think I could borrow a hairbrush?" She patted at her unruly locks and then looked down at the floor.

"Of course, my dear," he grinned at her disheveled hair and the marked contrast it made to the rest of her appearance. He left the room, checking on Wade who was busying himself with his toy soldiers. He then returned to Scarlett, carefully tying the necktie around her wrist and then her neck to stabilize and support her injured shoulder.

"Please, allow me," he moved her to the bench at the small dressing table. He pulled the tie and a few pins that still remained, freeing her dark tresses. He gathered a section of her silky tresses in one hand and gently tugged at the ends until they were tangle free. He gripped higher and once again worked the brush until it pulled through the strands easily. He continued his ministrations, working his way around her mane, enjoying the feel of the silk strands between his fingers. He alternated the brush and his hand, smoothing the ebony locks after each stroke. Despite the fact that it had been days since they had last been washed, he still detected the faint scent of lemon verbena as he brushed. He fought the urge to bury his nose in their lengths to inhale their scent more fully. She sighed audibly.

"I'm afraid, I am not very adept at any styles, my dear. Will a simple tie suffice?"

She nodded silently and slight blush pleasantly tinged her overly pale cheeks. He quickly gathered her hair at her nape and retrieved the black ribbon he had earlier removed. A few tendrils escaped but otherwise her mane was satisfactorily contained.

"Thank you," she murmured and smiled demurely at his reflection in the mirror.

"My pleasure," he replied with a wink. "Now, let's go see what young Wade is up to, and where our supper is." He held out a hand and she accepted his offer, allowing him to help her up. He tucked the hand into his elbow and the pair entered the main seating area of their suite.

 _Thank you for reading. Please let me know your thoughts. SS_


	11. Chapter Ten

_So this is unfortunately a very short update but it was a fitting end and the next chapter starts such that it was a fitting break. I hope that at least I make up for the lack of substance with the relative quickness of my update. I haven't mentioned this in a while, but I don't own Scarlett or Rhett or any of the familiar characters... they all belong to MM. Please don't sue me for taking them on a little adventure of my own. Back to our story..._

Chapter Ten

Scarlett toyed with the broth, turning and stirring her spoon within the bowl, but rarely managing to bring the savory liquid to her lips. Rhett frowned but refrained from saying anything. Instead, he assisted Wade with the telling of their day's adventures.

The main course arrived and she continued with her façade. She prodded and sliced at the meat, scooped up the potatoes and greens but failed to bring more than a couple of forkfuls to her mouth.

"Scarlett," Rhett growled, "you are not going to get any better if you do not eat!"

"I'm sorry, Rhett," she quietly answered, "I'm just not that hungry."

"Just not that hungry?" he replied incredulously, standing up as he yelled. "You should be starving! By the looks of you, you are still for the want of a good meal since you left Tara!"

"No, Unca' Rhett," Wade cried suddenly. The small boy jumped up from his chair and was immediately at his mother's side. "Please don't hurt mama."

Rhett's ire calmed almost immediately, but to his surprise, it was Scarlett that spoke first. "It's alright, Wade," she patted his hand reassuringly. "Rhett isn't going to hurt me. He's just trying to help me, to help us." Despite her calming words, tears filled the boy's large brown eyes.

Rhett took a deep breath and then moved around the table until he could kneel next to the scared boy. "I'm sorry, Wade," he spoke softly, placing a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I promise you, I will never hurt your mother."

The boy looked up at him, eyes still large with fear.

"You need to understand, son, what Frank did was not right. No man should ever put his hands on someone weaker than him – man, woman or child. I will never hurt you or your mother. And, I promise, I will make sure that no one else hurts either one of you ever again. Okay?"

The boy nodded slightly and Rhett ruffled his chestnut hair. "That's a smart boy. You are going to grow up to be a fine young man. Now, it's going to be quite a while before your mother finishes her supper and we can have dessert. Why don't you run along and play in your room and I will come and get you when the dessert arrives."

"Okay, Unca' Rhett," Wade replied, turning and heading into his bedroom.

"I'm sorry, Rhett," she began once Wade had left the room. "I really am, but…" she paused and he let the silence stretch between them, waiting for her to continue. "I know I should eat, but, I just can't…."

"Are you still nauseous?" he asked, concern etched across his features.

She shook her head. "No, it's not that. It's just…." She dropped her hand to her lap and fingered her napkin.

He waited for her to continue until finally, with a finger on her chin, he tipped her head up until her eyes met his. He was surprised to find her emerald orbs swimming.

"Please, Rhett. Please don't make me go back," she whispered quietly.

"What?! Go back?! Why in all heaven would I make you go back?" he replied incredulously.

"Well, I….' she paused and lowered her eyes once again. "I am not as attractive as I'm sure you had wanted… I have scars and … and…. I'm too thin and…. and….. well, other things and I know these weren't part of your original bargain. I know you don't find me attractive; I know you don't want me for….. well for what we made a deal for but please don't send me back…. I'll do anything for you but please don't send me back!"

He rose from his chair and picked her up, seating himself in her chair while resting her on his lap. She stiffened with the contact, but he had managed to avoid her injuries so no expression of pain was evident on her features.

"Scarlett, darling." He purred and he tightened his embrace. She let the endearment roll over her. "I will never send you back. How could I? I would be a worse monster than even old Frank were I to send you back to him."

"But, I…." she paused, her eyes fixed on her hand as it continued to twist the napkin in agitation. "I have not….. you are not….. this is not the deal that you thought you were getting. I am not the person you thought you were whisking away from Peachtree Street. You might have wanted Scarlett O'Hara, but I don't think you are getting the girl you bargained for."

"Do you really believe that I don't want you? Ah, Scarlett, that can't be farther from the truth. I want you, but I want all of you. I can't have this frail shell of you. I can, but it would never be enough. I want you as you are meant to be wanted. I want all of you. Not this little bit of you. I need you healthy and happy and so I shall wait patiently until you are well. I will wait until you no longer flinch when I touch you. I will wait until my hands don't scare you."

He paused, reading the questions in her eyes.

"I know you can't believe it possible, but it is. And don't worry, darling, I will make sure that my wait is worthwhile."

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and enjoying the feel of her against him. They sat quietly this way for several minutes. Finally, Rhett shifted so he could see her face again.

"So now that it's settled that you are staying with me, do you think you can eat something for me?"

She nodded quietly. Carefully, he lifted her and settled her back into her chair. She dutifully picked up her fork and despite the fact that her meal had long cooled, she began eating the hearty fare.

 _Thank you for reading and an extra special thank you to those who have taken the time to review. I haven't been as diligent about responding to them, but I do read them, appreciate them and they keep me motivated when the keystrokes get a little tougher:) SS_


	12. Chapter Eleven

_Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Hopefully, since this post is longer than the last, it will make up for the length in time between updates. As always, the characters, etc do not belong to me, but rather MM and her estate. Please don't sue as no harm is intended by this work. And now, back to our favourite pair..._

Chapter Eleven

"No! No! Let me go!"

Rhett was sipping on his whiskey when he heard Scarlett's cries from the adjoining bedroom. Quickly, he raced into the room, finding her struggling beneath the bedclothes, her head tossing from side to side, her legs kicking against the tangled sheets.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," he murmured. He grasped her shoulders to gently wake her, but she jerked away from his touch. He climbed more fully into the bed, wrapping her in his arms. "Hush, Scarlett, it's me, Rhett. I have you. You're safe."

She whimpered in his arms, but her cries faded. He stroked her back and she snuggled closer to his chest. Her tears quieted and he pressed a kiss against the top of her head. He held her, stroking her back slowly and listening as her breaths slowed into slumber. He shifted in preparation to return to the sitting room, but she instantly began to whimper as she shifted closer to his chest. He sighed and settled her more comfortably in his arms.

In the early hours of the morning, he woke, still fully dressed, stiff from sleeping with his arms wrapped around her. Careful not to disturb her sleep, he extracted himself from her sleeping form and rose from the bed. He left the suite to arrange for their breakfast and returned with a tray of coffee. He poured himself a cup, settled next to the fireplace and took a large swallow of the bitter brew.

'You were my first choice after all.'

"Augh!" The strangled sound escaped as he pushed the sound of her voice from his mind. He trimmed and lit a cigar, relaxing into the innate habit. His mind turned to the days and weeks that lie ahead. Despite her assurances, he still had his doubts that Scarlett would be ready for a lengthy journey by the end of the week. Savannah would be their nearest seaside destination, but their travel would take at least twelve hours by train.

'Will that be too hard on Scarlett? Will it set back the progress she'd made?'

He resigned himself to the fact that an extra week in Marietta would be a better plan. He could just go to Atlanta for the day, take care of a few dealings he had left lingering at the bank and line his pockets for their extra time here.

'It would probably do well for a few people to see me around town since Scarlett has left,' he reasoned further. He wasn't sure if or how diligently Frank would be searching for his absent wife. A quick little trip into town not only would divert any attention in his direction, but also allow him to test the waters that they had left behind.

Settling into his newly formed plans, he poured himself another cup of coffee. He was about to settle back on the sofa when he heard the sound of vomiting from behind the bedroom door. He entered the room to find her kneeling on the floor at the base of the wash table.

He rushed to her side, but found her less shaky than he had the morning before. Still, he silently moved to the pitcher and returned to her side with a dampened cloth and glass of water. She sipped from the cup and sighed gratefully as she took the cloth from his hand.

"I'm okay," she said softly before he could ask after her health. "I'm okay. I just need a little more rest and I will be much better."

He bit back a sharp retort, wanting to scream at her for lying to him. Clearly, she was not okay. Clearly, she needed more than just a little more rest. And clearly, she would not be ready for another journey in just a few days' time. He communicated none of this to her, swallowing his ire, not wanting her to return to the previous day's conclusion that he would send her back.

'Send her back?!'

He shook his head in an effort to shake the thought from his mind. He gathered her in his arms and carried her over to the bed. Instead of depositing her and tucking her in, he found himself once again lying beside her, wrapping her closely against his chest.

'Awww, Scarlett,' he thought as she settled against him and her breathing slowed into slumber. 'What am I going to do with you?'

Rhett and Wade had once again spent the better part of the day away from the suite. Amongst their travels, they had visited the train depot where he had purchased a ticket for the next morning's train. They also stopped at the general store where Rhett purchased a few more toys and yet another book to help keep Wade entertained while he was away. They spent the afternoon in the park with Rhett ensuring that Wade enjoyed his outdoor time since it would be a couple of days before he could return to the park again. He told them of his plans over dinner and surprisingly, both of his travel companions seemed to accept his decision with minimal fanfare.

"Scarlett," he said, pulling her gaze from the small fire that danced, warming the small sitting area. "Are you certain that you are feeling well enough to be on your own for a couple of days?"

"Of course, Rhett," she answered quietly. "Besides, the decision has already been made and you've already purchased your train ticket."

"That's true and I have, but I can easily change my plans if you are not well enough to be on your own."

"I will be fine, Rhett," she paused before continuing, "but thank you for asking me."

"I've spoken to the manager and arranged for meals for tomorrow and the day after so you needn't worry about managing the stairs to order food or drinks for the two of you. I plan to return in time for supper Saturday evening, but if there are any delays, I will send word to you immediately. I also told the manager how to reach me at the National should you or Wade need me."

"Really, Rhett, we will be fine. If I managed on my own against the Yankees and Carpetbaggers for thebetter part of a year, I think I can handle a few days in a hotel room with delivered meals and a warm fire."

"My dear, I know how capable you are and believe me, I am wholly impressed by your historical achievements, but I just want to make sure that you don't overdo anything."

She smiled slightly as he handed her a cup of tea before settling himself next to her with his brandy in hand. She sipped at the liquid, feeling the warmth spread through her chest, matching the warmth he pressed against her side.

"Rhett, do you think…" she spoke after several moments of silence had passed. "Do you think I could write a letter to Melly?"

"You want to write a letter to Mrs. Wilkes?"

"Yes," she answered with a little more confidence. "She loves Wade so and I would hate for her to worry. I'm sure by now word must have reached Tara and who knows what the stories might be. I just don't want Melly to fret too much."

"Well, I think that we can manage that. The timing of your request is most expeditious."

She furrowed her brow, but he just sipped his brandy and then lit a cigar, not bothering to expand on his statement.

"Well, I know I can't say much but I just want her to know that Wade and I are safe. I suppose I could write to Suellen instead, but I just don't know if she will let Melly and Pa know. At least I know that I can count on Melly to put everyone at Tara at ease."

"Ah, yes, everyone at Tara, including the dashing Mr. Wilkes, of course." He tossed the remnants of his glass back in one quick motion before rising to fill it up again.

"Ashley?" She asked, confusion lacing across her features. "Oh, Rhett, let's not speak of Ashley at a time like this. Ashley Wilkes is the least of my concerns right now and for you to bring him up at this time, well, well, it's just preposterous."

"Oh really?" he asked, his voice rising despite his resolve to contain his ire. "Preposterous? That's an awfully big word for you, my pet. Do you really know what it means? Because I will tell you what is preposterous – your thinly veiled attempt at getting word to Ashley. Through his wife nonetheless!"

"Really, Rhett, if you don't want me to send a letter than I won't! But I was not thinking about Ashley when I asked. I was just thinking about Wade and Melanie and my Pa and… and…" she felt the tears brimming but couldn't hold back the words that forced them to spill. "And I just don't know when I'm ever going to see them again!" She bowed her head as the tears fell in earnest.

His back was to her but the sound of her slight sniffles easily reached his ears. Not that he needed any further testament to the tears he had heard in her words. He hadn't meant to upset her but he just knew that she probably wished that it had been her golden knight who had rescued her. He knew it and hated it. This knowledge that in her waking dreams it was Ashley who was holed up in this hotel room with her.

He knew this about Scarlett – had known it since the day he had met her so he knew better than to let it get under his skin. And, especially when she was in such a delicate state – when she needed him to be there for her. He crossed the small room quickly and knelt on the floor before her.

"Shhh, my dear," he said softly, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at her tears. His free hand captured the hand that rested on her knee. "I'm sorry and I know that you miss your family and friends. But you will see them again."

"I will?" she met his dark eyes, searching.

"You will, I promise." He paused before adding: "I'm not saying it won't be quite some time, but I will make sure that you get to see Tara again."

He dabbed softly at the remaining moisture on her cheek and then leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on her temple. Her eyelids fluttered at the contact and she tipped her head toward him, increasing the pressure of his soft lips against her heated skin. In spite of himself, Rhett felt his heart warm with this slight movement from her. Breaking contact, he cleared his throat and rose to his feet while still holding her hand. She raised an eyebrow in question.

"Let's continue our drinks at the table while you write your letter," he explained, reading the appreciation that flitted across her features.

He opened the small drawer in the side table where his brandy tray sat and retrieved the paper and writing implements it held. He set the items in front of Scarlett and settled across from her.

"Keep it simple, Scarlett," he advised. "Nothing about Frank, me or where we are. Just let her know that she needn't worry; that you and Wade are safe. You may tell her that one day you will eventually return to Tara and then, you will let her know all that has passed."

He lit a cigar and smoked thoughtfully as she worked on her correspondence. He took in her appearance as she worked, noting that the bluish tinge beneath her eyes had slightly faded and a little of the colour had returned to her overly prominent cheekbones. He still worried about leaving her alone, but also felt that it was better than trying to travel with her further.

She placed her pen on the table and blew softly on the paper to dry the ink. After a few minutes, she held the paper out to him.

He shook his head at her. "I trust you, Scarlett. I don't need to read it."

"Please," she insisted, still holding the paper. "I want you to read it. I think I didn't say too much or too little, but I would like your opinion as well."

"Alright," he acquiesed and took the paper from her.

 _Dearest Melly,_

 _It has been far too long since our last correspondence and I have missed you dearly. Perhaps word of my departure has already reached you, but I wanted to tell you that I am no longer in Atlanta. Please do not worry as both Wade and I are well and safe, no matter what you may hear or may have already heard. It may be quite some time_ _before I am able to write again, but please know that I will write again when I am able. Please tell Pa that I love him and give my well wishes to everyone at Tara. I will give Wade a kiss and a hug from you._

 _Your loving sister,_

 _Scarlett._

"Well done," he said after reading her brief letter. "I will post it for you at the train depot in Atlanta. This should put her mind at ease although I am certain she will still be full of questions but there's nothing that can be done for that."

She addressed the envelope leaving the return address area blank and handed it to Rhett as well. She rose and gathered up the writing tools and returned them to their drawer. A sudden weariness settled over her and instead of returning to her seat, she made her way to the side of Rhett's chair.

"I'm feeling rather tired all of sudden," she explained. "I think I will go to bed."

"Let me help you with your dress," he said while rising.

"No, no, I can manage. My shoulder is not very sore today and I will have to manage on my own for the next couple of days."

"All the more reason for me to help tonight. I don't want you to strain something and be worse off while I am gone."

He walked to her room leaving her no choice but to follow. He gently removed her dress, noting that this was the first time that her scars didn't seem to scream out to him, demanding his attention and churning his anger. He brushed her hair and then helped her into bed, pulling the blankets up and tucking them around her.

"Good night, Scarlett," he murmured while pressing a kiss against her forehead.

"Good-bye, Rhett," she answered sleepily.

He chuckled softly in response. "This is not 'good-bye' my pet. I will wake you before I leave in the morning." He stroked her cheek softly, turned down the lantern and left the room.

It was several hours later when her cries roused him from a deep slumber. He ran to her room, finding her fighting against the bedding.

"No! No, please no, please don't! Frank don't pleaaoowww!"

Rhett came around to the side of the bed, reaching out to caress the side of her face. "Shhhh, Scarlett, shhhhh," he soothed.

She jerked away from his touch.

"No, no don't! Please don't. I can't."

Her breath was coming in short gasps and tears streamed down her face and she continued to struggle against the blankets. He worried that with her frantic movements that she might worsen her injuries. He climbed into the bed, quickly wrapping his arm around her in an effort to slow her movements. Her shouts had turned to pleas but she still struggled against the weight of his arm. He managed to manoeuver his other arm under the pillow, pulling her more closely against his chest.

"Shhhh," he continued trying to soothe her, pressing his lips close to her ear. She pushed against his chest. "You're safe, Scarlett. You're safe. I have you. It's Rhett. I'm here."

She whimpered still but relaxed in his arms as her tears dampened the coarse hair on his chest. He stroked her back and continued whispering soothing nonsense.

"Oh, Rhett, it was so awful," she whispered through her tears.

"Hush, hush, it's okay," he continued to soothe her.

"I was there again. In my room at Aunt Pitty's and Frank was there. He threw me to the bed and and…." Her words drifted off as she seemed to come more fully awake and aware of what she was saying.

"It's okay, my dear. You're safe. He can't hurt you anymore. I promise you."

She looked up to him and he moved his hand from her back to brush her tears away. Her head was cradled in his other hand and his fingers tangled in her dark tresses. As his thumb brushed along her jawline, his eyes were drawn to her lips, moist still from her tears. Suddenly, he was very aware of their attire or lack thereof and he shifted slightly away from her warmth. To his consternation, she moved forward, erasing the space he had created. He forced the air out of his lungs and cursed his own baser needs. She was hurting and scared and needed him for comfort and nothing else. She nestled her head back against his chest and he forced his eyes to the smudges beneath her dark lashes, the collar bone that stood out too far, the ridges he could feel beneath his fingers now that his hand had returned to her back. She sighed and her warm breath tickled the hairs on his chest. He forced another breath out.

Just because he was only wearing sleep shorts and she was only wearing a thin chemise, it didn't mean that he couldn't hold her for a while. Just because she seemed to fit perfectly against him with her head tucked beneath his chin, it didn't mean he couldn't keep her safe for the night. Just because her warm skin felt impossibly soft beneath his calloused hands and all of this would normally mean a night of frolicking and fun, it didn't mean that he couldn't control his body this time, this night. He would lie here with her settled in his arms, her warmth pressed against his and just keep her safe. He could do this for her, just because she needed him. He would do this for her, he knew, just because he loved her.

 _As always, thank you for reviewing. Please leave a note and let me know your thoughts. SS._


	13. Chapter Twelve

_A/N: Please accept my sincerest apologies for having so much time pass between updates. Not to make excuses, but I seemed to have lost inspiration regarding this story... stumbling a little with how to move forward... and I didn't want to force it and put something out there that was less than what I felt the story deserved. This next chapter has been complete for some time, but it was the next stages of the story that floundered and I felt the last chapter was a better stop than the ending of this one. So I guess, it's kind of like when your favorite show goes on summer hiatus with a promise to return. I am finally back. Thank you so much for the notes and reviews over the past months. They have been a constant reminder that I was not alone in wanting to see where this story could go. I know that I could never hope that this chapter could make the wait worthwhile, but I do hope that it will bring back some interest as there is still more to come._

 _Any characters or places you recognize belong to MM and her estate. No harm is intended with the creation of this work so please don't sue:) Thanks for your patience. Please read and if you feel compelled, review. SS_

Chapter Twelve

The trip to Atlanta was much smoother and quicker when made by train and without a small child and sick woman in tow. He checked into a room at the National and asked the desk manager to bring his belongings up from storage. Once having cleaned up from his short journey, he headed down to the First National Bank. Using the office they left cleared for him, he caught up on his correspondence, checked on a few of his investments and made a few changes at the same time. He stopped into the bank manager's office and let him know that he might be away for an extended time. His business affairs tidied and his pockets lined more sufficiently for the upcoming weeks, he left the bank feeling much better prepared to face the weeks ahead. He intended to head to the National for dinner and a nightcap, but found his feet taking him past the hotel until he reached the Girl of the Period Saloon.

"Where ya bin, Sugar?" Belle asked as he seated himself at the bar. "I ain't seen ya in a few days."

He waited to answer until she placed a drink in front of him and he took a large swallow of the amber liquid. "I was out of town," he answered matter-of-factly. "There was a sudden business issue that required my immediate attention. I am only here for the day to tie up a few loose ends and then I'm afraid I will have to return."

"How long d'ya think ya'll be gone this time?" she asked.

"I'm not sure, Belle. Hopefully this business doesn't tie me up too long but it's hard to foresee at this juncture." He was carefully vague and although he knew that it would be quite some time before he would likely be able to set foot in Atlanta again, he didn't want to allude to as much, even to his confidante.

A pair of Yankee soldiers entered the saloon and he easily recognized them from his location at the bar.

"Jenkins. Benton. Come and join me for a drink," he called to the pair.

He had shared many poker hands with the men during his time in jail and both had shown to be rather generous with their knowledge of gossip around town. He wagered that not only would they give him a good feel of the comings and goings during the days he was away, but also that they would somehow get the word out that he had been in town during the time when Scarlett had already left.

"Allow me to buy you gentlemen a drink," he offered, motioning to Belle at the same time. Once the drinks were poured, the three men moved to a table and very little time had passed before two more soldiers joined them and cards were dealt around the table.

He played casually but purposefully, winning a little and losing a little more. All the while, catching up on the goings on about town. So far, at least amongst the Yankee soldiers, no one had put anything together about Scarlett's disappearance and his own hasty departure from town. There was quite a bit of talk and interest in Scarlett's disappearance but nothing that was linked to him thankfully. He supposed it helped that he often left Atlanta for stretches of time and rarely told anyone of his plans prior to his departures. There was quite a bit of gossip as to where Scarlett might have went, under what circumstances and who might have been involved, but at least as far as the soldiers had heard (or alluded to hearing) no concrete leads had surfaced.

"Remember that other night, Jenkins?" Benton asked after tossing his bet onto the pile of funds accumulated in the centre of the table.

"What night?" Jenkins squinted at his cards, frowning a little.

"Last week, remember? We had to take old Kennedy home? He could barely walk but meanwhile he had knocked out two negros and was working on a third when we got there."

"Oh, right. That's right. He kept sayin' he thought it might some trouble out of Shanty town."

"Apparently, he just kept hitting each of the bastards he had knocked out, demanding that they tell him where his wife was hiding."

Rhett clenched his jaw tightly and fought to keep an expression of mild disinterest across his visage. His anger surged up as their stories brought forth images of the purpled and scarred back of the woman he harbored a short train ride away.

"You were an acquaintance of Mrs. Kennedy, weren't you Captain Butler?" Benton asked casually.

"Well, yes, matter of fact, I am. Acquaintance of the Kennedy's, Ms. Hamilton and the Wilkes as well. Has anyone spoken to the Ms. Hamilton or Mrs. Wilkes? Mrs. Kennedy was very close with both of them. I'm sure they would know where she is." He kept his tone even and casual, using the same tone to ask for a pair of cards.

"Yes. Mrs. Wilkes is not in town but we spoke with Ms. Hamilton immediately after Mr. Kennedy reported his wife missing. She had left her home alone while visiting with Mrs. Meade and had simply thought she was resting when she returned. Apparently, Mrs. Kennedy had been feeling under the weather so it was understandable that she would be sleeping during the middle of the day." Benton shifted his cards, made a face and then laid them face down on the table. "I fold."

"Hmmm," Rhett offered in reply. "I seem to recall that Mrs. Kennedy has been under the weather quite often over this past year."

He shifted his attention to Jenkins who sat to the left of Benton. From the anxious shifting of his eyes between his cards and the pool of money at the center of the table, Rhett gathered that Jenkins had compiled a better than decent hand. Likely it wasn't an upper echelon hand like a straight flush or something similar, but quite likely stronger than the pair of tens he was currently holding.

"Jenkins, I believe the call is to you," he nudged.

A few more nervous glances while his fingers played with the remaining coins in front of him. Surprisingly, the young soldier added his matching funds to the pot. The other two soldiers, Miller and Lewis, had tossed down their hands several raises ago.

"I call," Jenkins spoke with a confidence that contrasted his earlier nervousness.

'Well,' Rhett thought to himself. 'At least by losing, my visit to town will be more easily remembered.'

He laid down his cards. Jenkins followed suit and Rhett was surprised to see how close to winning his hand had been. Jenkins' pair of Jacks backed up by an Ace was a surprisingly weaker hand than Rhett had anticipated. The boy was made of stronger stuff than he had earlier figured him for.

"Well, gentlemen, it has been an entertaining evening," Rhett rose from his seat as he spoke. "But the hour is getting late and my funds are considerably lower so I'm afraid I will have to call it a night."

He collected his jacket from the back of his chair and donned it before touching his fingers to his forehead in mock salute. He asked the bartender to send the men another round of drinks and gave a few more coins from his pocket to Belle to settle up his bill. He ignored the questioning and slightly hurt look that crossed her features as she realized that he wouldn't be spending the remainder of the night with her.

The night was noticeably cooler when he exited the saloon and the cool air felt rather refreshing after the smoke-filled barroom. There were few people out on the street as the hour had grown late and he walked casually, enjoying a quiet rarely found in the town. A few blocks ahead, he noticed a man stumbling out of the Billiard Saloon, a quiet establishment for "gentlemen" that lacked card games or girls or any other source of entertainment other than a single dilapidated billiard table that was missing most of its billiard balls. It was for these reasons that Rhett chose not to frequent it despite his numerous visits to the town. If he simply wanted to get drunk, the bottle in his room at the National would more than suffice.

His pace bettered that of the man ahead of him and he found himself drawing closer. As he drew nearer, an inkling of his identity formed in his mind until he drew within a block and he was certain. Rumpled clothes and disheveled hair did nothing to hide the identity of Scarlett's husband and his pace quickened slightly. Some reasonable part of his brain argued that he should turn and head in a different direction. That Frank hadn't yet noticed his presence and the smart thing to do would be to keep it that way. But Scarlett's broken figure also stood sharply in his mind and although he hadn't consumed overly much, alcohol aided the surge of anger that this image brought forth. His steps quickened, footfalls echoing sharply in the quiet night. The darkened entrances to various businesses and banks the only witness to their passing.

As he drew closer, the sound of his footsteps on the wooden sidewalk must have reached the ears of the man ahead. Rhett watched as Kennedy glanced quickly over his shoulder only to come to a complete stop and turn around to face him directly.

"You? What are you doing here? You followin' me?"

Rhett bit back his anger, drawing to within just a few feet before he answered. "Now, why would I be following you? Do you have something to hide?"

"Me? You were with Scarlett on the day she went missing! Where did she go? Where did you take her? Where is she?!"

"Scarlett is missing? That must be very hard for you. What or should I say, who, are you using as your whipping post since she's been gone?"

Frank paused a brief second as the reality of the accusation hit him and then he quickly lunged at Rhett. Rhett side-stepped the attack and threw Frank to the ground.

"Not very strong against a real adversary, are you?"

Frank quickly jumped to his feet, throwing a punch that landed on Rhett's shoulder instead of his face as the man intended. Rhett's right hand met his opponent's jaw with a satisfying crunch and the man fell to one knee. Rhett hauled him up by his shirt and dragged him to the small access lane next to the Bank of Atlanta. Frank's feet dragged at first until the man eventually got them beneath him and stood on his own.

"Where is she goddammit!?"

"You need to forget about Scarlett. She's not yours to beat on anymore."

"She's my wife! Mine! Understand? An' there's nothin' you can do to change it! I will find her!"

As Frank screamed this last, he lunged at Rhett, throwing his arms out to wrap around him. Rhett, reading the move in advance, twisted slightly, preventing the man from fully knocking him off balance. Using the already unsteady man's forward momentum, Rhett grabbed his arms and threw him bodily to the ground. Quickly, he followed with repeated blows to Kennedy's face and head, feeling the satisfying give of flesh beneath his hands. Quickly, the man stilled beneath his blows and reigning in his surging rage, Rhett straightened, chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. As the sound of his blood rushing faded, sounds of the night reached his ears. Voices in the distance danced in the night breeze and he quickly grabbed the wretched Kennedy by his feet and dragged him bodily into the deeper recesses of the alleyway. A slight groan reached his ears, but otherwise the man remained motionless.

'Ah hell! What mess is this?'

He ran his fingers through his already thoroughly disheveled hair in bitter frustration. The feeling of his fists meting out justice against Frank's flesh was immensely satisfying, but now he saw the consequences of his rash actions. Although, based on his evening of cards, a beating being laid upon the lately more belligerent Mr. Kennedy wouldn't surprise the Union officers policing the town, it still wouldn't mean that there wouldn't be an investigation. An investigation that would bear some pretty heavy consequences once Kennedy's statement was acquired. His only hope was to delay his statement for as long as possible.

Scanning his surroundings, his eyes made out a pile of broken crates in the intersecting rear alley offering service access to the businesses that lined the street. Deciding to leave Frank where he lie, midway along the side of the building, Rhett quietly gathered a few of the larger broken pieces of the crates. He stacked them haphazardly near Frank's head and feet, blocking any immediate discovery from the front or rear of the alleyway. A nudge with his foot tucked the man's body closer to the building and elicited another slight groan but no other movement.

'Well, Scarlett's secret escape is a little less secret now, but no matter that they know who her accomplice might be, they still won't know where we are.'

He backtracked quickly down the alley until it brought him to another intersecting alley where he made his way to the main street and headed away from the location of his altercation with Kennedy. He briefly thought of returning to Belle's – his brief absence would be more likely construed as a trip upstairs than absence at all – but dismissed the idea quickly. His clothing betrayed signs of his struggle and establishing himself at Belle's would require more time than he wanted to expend. Following a circuitous route through the streets of Atlanta, Rhett made his way to the National Hotel, coming at it from the complete opposite direction of the Girl of the Period Saloon and the ill-fated alley.

Quickly cleaning himself up and changing his clothes, he divided his belongings into a smaller satchel to bring along and the larger case to be forwarded to him later. Although he had a desire to cover his tracks, he also knew that he needed to get as much distance as he could between himself, the town and the man he had left lying in that alley.

Grabbing the travel bag, he closed the door to his room less than twenty-four hours of having arrived. In the pre-dawn light, he quietly left the hotel and made his way through the wakening streets of Atlanta. Arriving at the train depot, he exchanged his ticket for the next train to Marietta. In less than fifteen minutes, he was seated comfortably in first class, his hat tipped forward as he finally allowed himself some time for slumber.

 _Thank you again for your patience and more importantly for reading. SS_


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_Hi Everyone, so here we go again - and hopefully, I can keep up this typing (and hence posting) pace. No promises on my end and of course, reviews and feedback can always help to motivate a girl's fingers :) Oh, and a small note on semantics: I had read somewhere that during the timing of our beloved novel, the midday meal was exclusively referred to as "dinner" whereas the late day meal was referred to as "supper". I have been trying to stick to that theory which I realized might confuse people regarding timing throughout the story. I thought I might take a moment to clarify. Also, since I've been following this theory, I hope it is actually based in fact since I can't remember where I read it. [shrugs]_

 _Now, on to our latest installment..._

Chapter Thirteen

Scarlett watched as Wade played with his soldiers on the floor of the sitting area in their suite of rooms. She flipped the pages of the magazine Rhett had purchased for her before he left. It seemed as though much more than barely a day had passed since his leaving. Having never spent so much time completely alone with her son, she found herself at a loss as to how to occupy his time. Being in a state of recovery as well, she found it even more of a challenge. If she had the ability to step outside of herself and look at things with an objective eye, she might realize that her son was exceptionally well-behaved for a child his age. That it was a pretty impressive feat for a boy of the tender age of four to remain cooped up in a small hotel suite for over twenty-four hours with little more to occupy his time then a few books and some toy soldiers. She was wholly without that ability however and instead found herself actively biting her tongue when he made a few of his more rambunctious noises from time to time.

She eyed the clock on the fireplace mantle and noted that their dinner would be arriving soon. She sighed and placed her magazine on the side table that held the decanter and glasses, unused since Rhett had left the morning before. It seemed so long ago that he had gently wakened her in the early morning light, pressed a kiss against her forehead and gathered his bags and left. She felt a blush warm her cheeks as she remembered how she had fallen asleep. Well, not initially, but after her nightmare had woken her. She couldn't recall his coming to her bed but somehow she had found herself sobbing against him, his strong arms wrapped reassuringly around her. The gentle rise and fall of his chest had slowly lulled her to sleep despite the inappropriateness of their embrace.

'Oh, thank goodness mother cannot see me now,' she thought. 'I've shared a bed with a man who is not my husband. No matter that nothing happened.'

Despite the disruption to the early part of her night's sleep, the remainder of the hours she had spent firmly ensconced in Rhett's embrace. Those hours had given her some of the most restful sleep she had experienced in a long time, probably since before the war and she wondered at how it had come to pass. Especially since last night had not been as kind to her and she found herself wakened several times, either by the jarring fear and pain of her nightmares or the general unease that came from being in unfamiliar surroundings and alone.

"Wade, honey," she called softly while fighting to contain a yawn. "It's time to tidy up your things. Our lunch will be here soon. Be a dear for momma and bring the toys to your room and wash up."

"Okay, momma, but can I play s'more afta?"

"Of course, but let's hurry up before the food arrives. I don't want our maid to trip on your toys and then spill our dinner."

The little boy snickered a little at the idea she had given him, but dutifully stood, with as many soldiers as his tiny hands could hold and skipped into his room. He returned and picked up a few more and within minutes the floor was clear once again.

"Thank you, Wade. You are a really big help. Now let's both wash up."

She rose slowly and this time, the dizziness that had plagued her in the morning, didn't return. She followed him to the room and watched as he carefully washed at the basin, only spilling a few drops on the table and floor. She held back the automatic reprimand and watched as he dried his hands before taking the towel from him and washing her own hands. She used the towel to sop up the water on the wash stand, before bending slowly to take care of the water on the floor. The movement took more effort than she expected and brought an extra vibrancy to the dull ache in her ribs that she had become accustomed to, but she closed her eyes and took a few steadying breaths until the pain once again receded.

The sound of the door opening reached her ears and she frowned, unsure if she didn't hear the maid's knock or if the woman was becoming so comfortable with the routine that she had abandoned the practice altogether. Suddenly, Wade's excited shouts filled the room, nearly drowning out the sound of the door closing. She ran into the main part of the suite. "Wade," she called as she entered, the end of his name fading quickly as she stopped short.

"Rhett, I didn't expect you back until tomorrow." She found herself slightly breathless as she spoke.

"What a wonderful greeting, Scarlett. I'm happy to see you again, too."

"Oh, what? Well, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm just surprised that's all. Of course, I'm happy to see you. Wade doesn't offer much in the way of conversation, after all."

She could see that Rhett was about to say something further, but Wade prevented him from replying.

"Unca' Rhett," he jumped up and down and tugged on Rhett's hand. "Can we go to the park? Can we? Can we?"

Rhett chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm. "Not quite as much fun spending an afternoon in a hotel with your mother, is it?"

"Hmpf," Scarlett, answered. "That's not fair, Rhett. You know I can't bring him to the park."

"Relax, Scarlett, it's not a competition. I was just stating a fact." He caressed the line of her jaw before turning to the boy. "And, I'm afraid, Wade, that we cannot go to the park today. We are leaving shortly after our dinner."

"We are?" Scarlett asked, not noticing Wade's crestfallen expression. "I thought we were staying a little longer. That's why you went back to Atlanta."

Rhett ignored Scarlett for a moment and knelt down to address the young boy's disappointment. "I'm sorry, son. I know you have a lot of fun at the park and we will go to a new park in a couple of days, I promise. Okay?"

The little boy nodded and Rhett tousled his hair before straightening to face Scarlett. Before he could explain, there was a knock at the door. The maid seemed surprised when he opened the door, but recovered quickly, bringing the meal to the table. Rhett asked her to return with an additional setting and serving for his meal, waiting at the door for her to return. She did so quickly and Rhett thanked her before joining his travelling companions for their meal.

"Rhett, I thought you wanted us to stay in Marietta a little longer." Scarlett had barely waited for him to sit before returning to her questions. "We hadn't decided where to go next."

He swallowed his food and looked pointedly at Wade before speaking. "I changed my mind about staying and we're taking the train to Augusta by way of Athens."

Scarlett looked down at her plate and forced herself to eat a few more bites in silence. She wondered what had changed Rhett's mind so suddenly. She eyed her companion, noting for the first time the haggardness of his appearance.

"Are we safe?" she blurted out suddenly. "Is Frank…"

"Scarlett," he growled, warning and interrupting her before she could ask any more questions. "We are fine. You are fine. I just changed my mind about staying here. We were never meant to stay here for very long in the first place."

She dropped her eyes back to her plate.

"Now, finish your lunch so we can pack up our things. Our train is leaving in less than two hours."

Rhett had eaten quickly with no regard to the pace of his companions and had left them at the table while he worked at packing up the belongings the trio had accumulated. Despite their short stay, especially where Wade was concerned, they had managed to amass quite an amount especially when one considered that they had arrived with virtually nothing. He had to get a little creative with the packing, but eventually he was able to fit all of the clothes into the original bag he had brought (with some extra in the bag he had deposited at the door on his arrival) and the remaining bag that he had purchased held the books and toys that had been primarily occupying the young boy's time.

He returned to the sitting area to find the plate in front of the young boy was nearly empty, but Scarlett was once again pushing her food around without really making any of it disappear.

"Scarlett, please make an effort to eat some more. The train ride won't be long enough for us to eat while aboard, but it will be long enough that if you don't eat now, you will be sorry later."

"I will try, Rhett," she answered quietly.

He knew that she was worried about their sudden change of plans and that she had questions, but he didn't feel they had time to allay her concerns at the moment. He sat on the edge of the chair next to her, their knees almost touching.

"Scarlett, honey, just trust me. We are safe and everything is going to be fine. We will talk more later, but for now, please just eat some more so we can get going soon." He stroked the side of her cheek with the back of his fingertips and then returned to his feet. "I'm going to settle our bill and arrange for a carriage to the train station. I need you both to be ready to leave when I return. I don't want us late for the train."

Less than two hours later, the trio were comfortably situated in a private luxury car near the front of the train. Although while along the northern rails, most trains would find more passengers vying for the few luxury travel accommodations that were available, most of the southern routes would find these cars empty for several miles. As a result, although his purchase had been made so close to their actual departure, Rhett was able to secure them private and comfortable accommodations.

The journey had passed quickly, especially for Scarlett who had managed to sleep for most of it. The questions she had about their sudden change of residence were no match for the fatigue that encompassed her, especially after a long night with little sleep and while sitting with the reassuring warmth of Rhett pressed against her side. They debarked the train upon arrival with little fanfare and quickly found a carriage to bring them to the Planters Hotel.

The manager that greeted the trio reacted little to their unexpected arrival and assured them that a suite would be ready for them shortly. He escorted them to a comfortable lounge and Rhett already felt more at ease with their new locale. He also felt more confident with his decision to travel a shorter distance east rather than choosing the longer journey to the shore. He eyed his companions; Wade was looking worn out by the excitement of the train ride, having spent much of the time in their car bouncing from the windows to the floors to play and then to the extra seats and back again. Scarlett was looking fatigued as well, even though she had slept for most of the afternoon. Despite their tired state, he knew that the three of them looked a sight better than the last time they surprised a hotel with their arrival.

The manager returned after just a few minutes and they were brought up to the third floor where their suite awaited. They entered through the double doors and found a similar arrangement to their previous lodging, although each of the rooms were significantly larger. The sitting area boasted a sofa and pair of chairs near a fireplace as was the case with their rooms at the Fletcher hotel, but there also was a much larger table for meals and a separate desk and chair for correspondence. Cream walls offset the dark wood floors and a cheery fire in the fire place brought additional warmth to the room. Rhett handed the waiting bellhop a coin and thanked him for assisting with their bags.

Scarlett, for her own part, was still trying to catch her breath after their walk up the stairs. She moved slowly into the suite, attempting to hide her discomfort from Rhett's all too observant eyes. She tried a slow, deep breath, but a sharp pain stalled that attempt. The room slowly narrowed as the table swam before her.

"Scarlett, are you not feeling well?"

Rhett noted that her milky white skin had somehow grown impossibly paler. As he moved to her side, she swayed slightly and he reached for her arm to steady her. She crumpled in that moment and he was barely able to react quickly enough to catch her before she hit the floor.

"Scarlett!"

He adjusted his grip until he was able to lift her limp body, his arms around her shoulders and knees. He carried her quickly to a bedroom and laid her on the bed. He stroked her forehead, her cheek, tamping down the urge to shake her bodily.

"Scarlett, my sweet, please, open your eyes."

Her head moved and her eyelids fluttered and he exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Her eyes opened fully and a frown drew her eyebrows together. He watched as she searched the ceiling, walls, until finally resting her gaze on him.

"Rhett? Wh...where am I? What happened?"

"I should be asking you that question. I believe you fainted."

"But… I never faint."

"The evidence suggests otherwise. You should have eaten more."

"Unca' Rhett?" Wade's soft voice called to him from the doorway. "Is momma okay?"

He turned to the entrance and waved the boy in. "Yes, young man. Come and see. She is a little overtired from our trip and her illness, but she will be fine, eventually."

He saw relief chase the worry from the small boy's brow and a slight smile graced his features. "Good!" He bounced with the newfound energy of an overtired child. "Does that mean we can go to the park now?"

He chuckled a little. "No, I'm afraid not, Wade. It's far too late to find a park tonight. I'm going to arrange for a late supper and then we'll clean up and get ready for bed." The boy's immediate crestfallen expression was almost comical in how quickly it appeared. "Why don't you sit with your mother and show her your new story book while I go and arrange for our meal?"

He left the pair and went to the dining room to make the arrangements. Shortly, he returned to the suite and it was not long afterward that their meal was delivered. The trio ate without incident and Rhett resumed his role of getting Wade ready and settled for bedtime. He joined Scarlett on the sofa once the boy had fallen asleep.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked while pouring himself a glass of brandy.

She shook her head but remained silent. He looked over and took in her bent head, the fingers that pulled at the loose threads at her wrist. Drink in hand, he sat in the chair facing her.

"Things are still in turmoil in Atlanta," he began and she raised her eyes to meet his. "There is still a lot of speculation about you and where you are and a few people did see us together the last day you were in town."

"So, we are in danger."

"No. No matter what the circumstances, we would never be in danger. At risk of being discovered? Maybe. I would prefer that we have a little more space between ourselves and Atlanta."

"And Augusta is far enough away?"

"Far enough until you can handle a little more travel," he clarified. "You gave me quite a scare earlier."

She dropped her eyes and he took a satisfying drink from his glass. 'Scare' was an understatement. When she had crumpled in front of him, his heart had dropped into his stomach.

"I have a friend who lives in town. Tomorrow, I am going to drop in on him and see if there is a doctor in town that he trusts."

"I'm fine," she began, but he held a hand up before she could say anything further.

"This is not negotiable, Scarlett. I need to know that you're well. Eventually, we will need to move on from here as well and I need to know that you can handle that trip."

She nodded but remained silent. He settled back in his chair and sipped on his drink. The pair sat quietly, each lost in their own thoughts, the crackling of the fire providing a background to their internal monologues.

 _Okay, so a little change of geography. I was a little hesitant to choose a location such as Augusta as it's not really mentioned in the novel or even in any fanfics but based on my research, it seemed a feasible alternative and really did want to get our trio out of Marietta. Hopefully, I don't make any glaring errors with details for the town during this timeframe in history. Any tips would be more than welcome:) Thanks for reading! SS_


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_Okay, so I almost just posted this without any author's notes... is that a total faux pas? I think so. I've been very appreciative of all the support I've received with this story so far, especially after taking such a long hiatus. Here is our latest installment, which includes some characters that I've created on my own. I tried to do some extra work on editing for this chapter so that the characters would have an actual "identity" without spending too much time talking about them as opposed to moving forward the story of our favorite couple. Hopefully that worked well enough, but please let me know if I didn't quite find the right balance. Now - back to our story..._

Chapter Fourteen

The trio arrived at James' home which was not very far from the core of the town. Scarlett was still uncomfortable with the idea of going to a stranger's house to be examined by yet another stranger. Though he may be a doctor, he was still a man she had never met. Then, after the uncomfortable introduction, they would all gather in the dining room and have supper together. Admittedly, she had shared meals with other doctors in the past, but these were men who were part of the fabric of her life. Men that she had known socially long before she had to endure any type of medical examinations. Her arm tightened on Rhett's involuntarily as they were ushered into the stately home.

"James," Rhett greeted the tall man with chestnut hair who stood in front of the fireplace in the elegant parlour. "Good to see you again. This is my wife, Scarlett. Scarlett, my good friend, James Miller."

There had been a hesitation that, although slight, was clearly present before he stated the word 'wife' during the introductions. Scarlett held her hand out to the man, dipped her head and smiled slightly in introduction. He bent slightly over her hand and she realized that although James was tall, he wasn't quite as tall or as broad as Rhett. His skin had a hint of tanned hue and combined with his chestnut hair, his overall appearance gave a sun-kissed air.

"A pleasure to meet you." James smiled when he spoke, revealing a single dimple on his left cheek. A quick nod to Scarlett and then he bent slightly to address the small boy who stood between the pair. "And who might you be, young man?"

Wade stepped forward and straightened proudly. "Wade Hampton Hamilton, sir."

"Well, you look like a fine young gentleman. Thank you for joining us for supper."

Scarlett looked at her son and saw that Rhett's friend seemed to share the same knack with children that he did. A smile spread from cheek to cheek and the young boy straightened more so, rising even on the tips of his toes in his effort to attain a higher status.

"Samuel," James gestured to the servant who had let them in and delivered them to the parlour. "Can you bring Master Wade to the gardens and show him around until our meal is ready?"

Wade jumped up and down at the prospect of outdoor time. Scarlett looked to Rhett who simply grinned in return, before ruffling the boy's hair.

"Mind Samuel, Wade," he advised the boy. "And, mind your clothes. We can't have you all filthy for our meal."

"Don't worry," James added. "There isn't much he can get into in the yard and I had Samuel set up the croquet court. He should enjoy that for quite some time."

Before either could respond, a knock sounded at the door and James left them to greet his next guest. She assumed that the knock indicated the arrival of Doctor Madison, and she plucked nervously at the hem of her sleeve.

"Scarlett," Rhett warned with a growl-tinged whisper. "Stop your fidgeting. You have nothing to worry about and you're going to pull all the threads loose from that dress before I have time to get you a replacement."

She dropped her hand and fisted it in her skirts to keep her fingers still. She wished she had stood on the opposite side of Rhett so she could wrap her hand around his arm instead. Not only would it keep her fingers from fidgeting, but his reassuring warmth seemed to still her fingers without her needing to try.

At that moment, James returned to the room with his guest in tow. Scarlett, assuming that the guest was the doctor, was surprised to see that he was a young man, seemingly younger than both Rhett and James.

"Mister and missus Butler, I would like you to meet my friend, Doctor Madison."

Rhett stepped forward and shook the man's hand. "Pleased to meet you. And, please, call me Rhett. Mr. Butler was my father."

The doctor chuckled a little while shaking Rhett's hand. "Well, my father was not doctor Madison, but my friends call me William. Please do the same." He turned to Scarlett and she held out her hand in greeting. "This must be your lovely wife. A pleasure to meet you."

Scarlett tipped her head in greeting and lowered her eyes, slightly taken aback by the doctor's youthful appearance. She had always known doctors to be old men with a somewhat crotchety disposition. William's golden hair and broad shoulders were quite a contrast to her medical attendants of the past. Adding to his appearance was a refined demeanor that rivalled even that of Rhett's and she found herself put off even more by thoughts of her upcoming meeting with the doctor.

"Dinner will be ready within the hour," James announced. "My office is just down the hall or there is a guest room at the top of the stairs. Which would you prefer for your consultation?"

He directed the question to William, but Rhett spoke up instead. "I'm sure the office will suffice."

"Well, it really depends on the nature of your wife's concerns," the doctor countered.

"The office will be fine." Rhett added firmly.

James led them down the hallway to another elegant room with dark wood furnishings and patterned wallpaper. A large fireplace filled one wall and a sofa graced the wall adjacent. An over-sized desk filled the centre of the room with two chairs on one side and a larger, more comfortable chair on the side nearest the fireplace.

"Okay, Scarlett, James and I will be in the parlour." Rhett had taken her hand and wrapped it around his arm when they had travelled the short distance of the hallway, but he unwrapped it once they entered the office. Scarlett squeezed her fingers tightly around his hand.

"Please, Rhett, please stay with me."

"That would be most unusual and improper, Mrs. Butler," the doctor chimed in from behind them.

"I… I know, but…" Scarlett looked pleadingly into Rhett's eyes before dropping her own to the floor. He waited a minute, but she still didn't raise them back to meet his, her fingers remained tightly wrapped around his own.

"Dr. Madison, I know it's not the normal way of doing things, but I think I will stay. My wife has been through quite a bit these past weeks and I would like to hear what you have to say directly. I hope you don't mind."

"As long as Mrs. Butler is agreeable then I guess it should be fine." He paused and Scarlett, noticing the pause, nodded her head slightly. "That's set. Well, I'm sorry James, but it looks like you will be on your own in the parlour."

"Ah, that's perfectly fine by me," James quickly answered. "I believe there is a croquet match with room for one more happening in the yard."

James exited the room, closing the door behind him quickly. He knew there was much more to the story of his friend and his wife and their sudden arrival in town, but he would give his friend the time and space to tell him. Until then, he would help him ease into the telling by making sure that the outside details went smoothly.

Scarlett had breathed a soft sigh of relief once the arrangements were set, but jumped at the slight thump of the door closing. Rhett gently opened her fingers and guided her over to the chair closest to the door.

"Why don't you have a seat, my dear?"

"Good idea," the doctor added. To Rhett's consternation, the doctor seated himself in the other chair on the same side of the desk, forcing Rhett to stand or choose the seat behind the desk. He stood for the time being. The man leaned back in the chair, crossed his legs and clasped his hands in his lap.

"So, why don't you fill me in on what brings you here? Or should I say, what brings me here?"

Scarlett pulled at the loose threads on the sleeve of her dress and Rhett frowned once again.

"My wife suffered a mishap," he began after several moments had passed and Scarlett had not begun relating their 'story' on her own. "We were riding while on holiday a few weeks ago. The old doctor there told us that she bruised her ribs and separated her shoulder, but otherwise was fine."

Scarlett looked up as Rhett told his tale, surprised at how easily he laid out their lie.

"He told us to keep her arm stable while her shoulder healed, her ribs bound and to get lots of rest but that was the extent of his instructions."

William sat up a little, but remained silent, inviting Rhett to continue.

"She doesn't seem to be getting better. Her shoulder seems to be a little better, but I'm worried there's something he might have missed. She's vomited a few times in the past week and she fainted the night before last."

"When exactly did the fainting occur?" He addressed the question to Scarlett. "What were you doing at the time?"

"We had, we had just arrived at the hotel. I was tired from the train ride and then walking up the stairs," she answered in a small voice.

"Scarlett, you slept most of the ride to Augusta and we took the stairs slowly when we arrived at the hotel." Rhett countered.

"With her ribs bound, Mr. Butler and if her stays were laced a little too tightly, it would be very difficult for your wife to breath properly while climbing the stairs. I'm sure that's all that…"

"She wasn't wearing a corset," Rhett interrupted and Scarlett blushed furiously at having two men discussing her undergarments so blatantly. "Do you think I'm mad? I would never allow her to be laced while in her injured state."

"Well, you did traipse her across the state in her injured state," the doctor responded frankly, the accusation clear in his eyes.

"Not that it is any of your business, but I waited to travel as long as I could. We were travelling when she was injured. Had we been home, then I would have remained." Rhett knew this man was a friend of James, but didn't know him well enough to know how much he truly could be trusted. His story was running thin, he knew, and his role as a dutiful husband was wearing thin as well, but he stuck with it for the time being.

"Mrs. Butler, other than this one time that you fainted, have there been any other times since your accident?" William redirected the conversation with a more gentle tone in his voice.

She shook her head.

"Nothing? Light-headedness? Dizziness?" he prodded.

"Well, a little, maybe. Sometimes, but mostly just if I stood up too fast."

She felt Rhett's gaze burning on her.

"Hmm. And, you mentioned you had been sick. How many times? Once or twice in the past couple of weeks or more often since the accident?"

Rhett held silent, waiting for her to answer since he hadn't been with her the full time of her recovery. She stayed quiet so he began for her.

"Well, this morning and not yesterday, but…"

"It really only started when we arrived in Marietta," she explained further.

"So, almost every day for the past week and a half," Rhett clarified.

"Well, almost, there were two days that I was fine."

"You mentioned in the morning," William asked, "were you only sick in the mornings? Any other times of the day?"

She shook her head again. "There were a few times I felt nauseous, like when we were on the train, but it passed."

The young doctor sat up in his chair and then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands once again.

"Mrs. Butler, when was the last time you had your menses?"

Scarlett blushed crimson with the doctor's forthright question, but Rhett felt the floor tilt beneath him. A crushing weight settled on his shoulders and he forced himself around the desk to sit at the chair behind it before his knees gave out.

Flustered, Scarlett looked back at her hands and began pulling at the loose threads again.

"Um, well…"

"Mrs. Butler, please. This is a time for frankness, not misplaced sensibilities."

"I'm, well it's just that I'm not sure."

"You're not sure!" both men exclaimed at the same time.

She turned and eyed Rhett, a hint of anger in her green eyes.

"Yes, I'm not sure. Ever since the war ended, my monthly courses haven't been that regular so it's been hard to keep track."

The doctor looked a little perplexed, but kept his tone level and soothing. "It's understandable to not know an exact date, but can you give me an idea? A month? Two months? Longer?"

She closed her eyes and an image flashed into her consciousness. An image of Frank throwing her to the floor of their bedroom in disgust, pulling the blood-stained sheets from the bed. He had screamed at her about giving him a child while dragging her up by her hair. Her back had screamed in agony when he slammed her against the wall, her wounds still not fully healed from his attack just two weeks prior. The pain had rolled over her in waves until mercifully she had passed out in the face of his attack.

Scarlett's face had gone through a myriad of emotions and Rhett worried that the doctor might read too much into her inadvertent display. He worried more about what memory she might be dredging up and wished that he had heaved more recourse on her drunken husband when he had had the chance.

"It was just after the Mardi Gras ball," she finally answered softly.

The doctor looked over to Rhett who had closed his eyes with her admission. He opened them and answered sadly. "That was over two months ago, my dear. You know what that means." He leaned his elbows on the mahogany desktop and dropped his head in his hands.

"What? No. It doesn't mean anything," Scarlett sputtered. "I've gone longer when I was at Tara after the war."

Rhett looked up and found the fear in her eyes. She looked from his face to the doctor's and then back to his again.

"You were starving then. And working like a field hand. Supporting all of your family and then some."

"That would have an impact on your cycle," the doctor chimed in. "So would the trauma of your accident, but that was only a few weeks ago, right?"

She nodded and opened her mouth, as if to argue further. "I can't be pregnant." Her face coloured with her forthright declaration.

The young doctor looked between the faces of the couple, bewildered slightly by their common displeasure at what most couples would find to be a blessing.

"Is there something I'm not privy to here?" he asked. "Are you saying that you physically cannot be with child? Because if that is the case, then perhaps we better schedule time for a more thorough examination at my office."

Rhett stared at Scarlett until the pull of his gaze drew her eyes to his. He recognized the fear in them – the fear and the acceptance. He held her stare for a moment longer before turning to the doctor.

"No, we are not saying that and yes, doctor, I believe you are right. I think that, just with the circumstances and everything my wife has been through, with her fall, she just doesn't feel that she is ready to face the challenge of pregnancy as well."

"I know the situation is not ideal and knowing ahead of time, I would never recommend that Mrs. Butler become with child so soon after her accident. You will have your challenges, but I will be happy to help you if you are staying in Augusta."

"Thank you, Doctor Madison. We may very well take you up on your offer. Now, I'm sure you understand that I would like a few moments alone with Scarlett. Could you make our excuses to James and let him know that we will be along shortly?"

"Yes, of course. And again, please call me William."

Rhett stood as the doctor stood and walked him to the study door, closing it firmly after the man left. He heard her tears before he saw them, turning to find her head dropped into her arm on the desk top. Her breath caught on each sob as he was sure her ribs protested the heaving of her chest. He walked to her side and picked her up wordlessly. Carrying her slight weight easily, he moved over to the sofa. Cradling her against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her, letting her tears soak his collar as she cried into the crook of his neck.

"Oh, Rhett," she whispered after her tears subsided. "Please don't make me go back. Please, I don't care where you leave me but please don't send me back to him. I promise, I promise. I won't be any trouble and I'll do whatever you ask, but please…"

"Shh, Scarlett, don't be silly," he crooned as she first began her pleas. As she continued, seemingly unhearing of his words, he interrupted her more sharply. "Scarlett!"

She hiccupped softly, but had stopped her rambling pleas.

"I told you before and I will tell you now again," Anger coloured his words as he spoke. "But this will be the last time that I accept your doubting my word. I will not ever send you back. I will not let anyone make you go back. And I sure as hell am not going to let Frank take you back."

"But, but… I'm pregnant."

"Yes, Scarlett, you're pregnant. It's not ideal and it complicates things, mainly because of your health. But, we will manage. I don't know what our next steps will be, but give me some time and I will come up with a plan. For now, we will continue with this ruse of husband and wife and stay here a little while to sort things out."

Rhett continued to hold her, stroking a soothing hand across her back, slowly, in contrast to his swirling mind. His thoughts churned and he felt the anger surging within him again. He wished he was back in the street in Atlanta so he could spend some of his anger on Frank once again. Scarlett's pregnancy indisputable proof that the man not only beat his wife, but raped her as well. She would never willingly lay with him after what he did to her. Images of her broken back flashed unbidden in his mind and he closed his eyes against them.

He looked down at the woman he held in his arms. Her breaths had slowed and her eyes were closed in slumber. With her eyes closed, she looked so much younger. The pain and fear and hardships normally displayed in their myriad of emerald shades hidden by pale lids and a smudge of dark lashes. The shadows beneath her eyes even added to her youthful air. What was he going to do with her? With her, her son and now another baby on the way?

He wrapped his arms a little more tightly around her small frame, dropping his head against the back of the sofa. His eyes closed, he allowed himself to feel his exhaustion, even if just for a few moments. Her warm breath against his neck calming his turbulent mind. He enjoyed the peace for a few minutes and then reluctantly, opened his eyes once again. Regrettably, he shifted, knowing that doing so he would wake her.

"Scarlett," his voice barely above a whisper, his lips close to her ear. "I know you're tired, my dear, but we shouldn't keep our host waiting much longer."

He shifted, moving her until she was seated next to him. She patted her hair and he reached out to straighten the few loose tendrils that had escaped the simple tie at the nape of her neck. Silently, she blinked the sleepiness from her eyes.

"Ready?" She nodded slightly and he stood, holding out a hand to help her stand. She accepted it and stood slowly. He continued holding her hand, facing her. With a finger, he tipped her chin up until her worried eyes found his. He tucked a dark tendril behind her ear. He continued the motion and stroked a finger along the line of her jaw.

"Things will be alright, my dear, I promise."

With that declaration, he pressed a chaste kiss against her soft lips. He ended the kiss quickly, straightening before he could be tempted to deepen it. Turning to stand beside her, he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her out of the room.

Surprisingly for Scarlett, the meal was a rather pleasant affair. Both James and William shared Rhett's penchant for story-telling and although she was sure that some of the tales were tempered due to the presence of both herself and her son, the men had kept her entertained throughout the evening. She also found herself particularly enjoying the verbal sparring between the men and even adding a few quips of her own. Both James and William could hold their own with Rhett which was something that Scarlett had yet been witness to in their past acquaintance. James, especially, with their shared history, seemed to be exceptionally adept at using that history to take Rhett down a peg, or two, should the opportunity present itself. All in all, as much as she had wanted to stay locked up in the study or return immediately to their hotel, the night had been a pleasant distraction for the problems that seemed to be quickly piling up on her shoulders.

As the supper dishes were cleared away, James suggested that they might prefer to retire to the parlour for brandy and wine.

"I think it best if we take a raincheck for your offer. I think that both Scarlett and Wade would benefit from my calling it an early night."

"I fear I must beg off as well," William added. "I have an article I would like to review for a patient I am meeting with tomorrow morning."

"Well, perhaps we shall plan another evening when everyone has a little more time," James responded good-naturedly, seemingly unaffected by the early end to his small gathering.

"We shall," Rhett responded, rising as he did. He held a hand out to Scarlett and she took it and stood beside him. Wade jumped up enthusiastically as well, his excitement at being included in a grown-up evening had long waned and Scarlett was sure he would have been happier in the hotel room with his books.

She leaned against Rhett as he followed James and William to the foyer. Samuel appeared, silently offering cloaks and hats and Scarlett found herself prepared for departure without actually remembering how she had donned the items.

"Mrs. Butler, I think it would be best if you were to come by my office for a more thorough exam."

Rhett shifted slightly, squeezing Scarlett's hand and pulling her back into the conversation. He could tell by the slight furrowing of her brow that she had not heard the doctor's recommendation.

"Thank you, William, for your offer. I believe we shall take you up on it but for now, I think it's best if we just get Scarlett to the hotel for some rest."

He patted Scarlett's hand, once again tucked in his elbow. He donned his hat and tipped it slightly at the two men. "Thank you for the evening, James, William. And, I do apologize for cutting our evening short. I had hoped to discuss some business with you as well, James. Perhaps I can come by your office in the morning."

"That would be splendid," James replied. He nodded his head to Scarlett and then ruffled the hair on Wade's head. "I enjoyed our croquet, Master Wade. I hope we shall have a rematch soon."

Wade smothered a yawn before mumbling a thank you to their host. Rhett chuckled and reached down and grasped the small boys hand in his free one. Samuel opened the door as the household carriage pulled up to the walkway and Rhett led his charges from his friend's home. James watched as the trio left, shaking his head. He would never have imagined a night where Rhett Butler would be the first to leave, yet here he was, leaving early and with a woman and small child in tow.

 _Thank you for reading. Please let me know your thoughts - good or bad - I appreciate the feedback immensely. SS_


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_Believe it or not, here I am again! I know! I have been gone for far too long and for that I apologize. Not that it really excuses my absence, but I did have a wonderful 4 day trip to New York, a beautiful holiday with my family and wonderful beginning to the new year that included hosting a birthday party for my aunt and uncle that included about 60 of our closest family and friends. So with that in mind, I hope you can forgive my absence from the keyboard._

 _Also, since it's been so long since I've posted, I thought I would take a few moments to summarize where we are with our lovely pair. I am working with the general timeline that Frank and Scarlett were married in February of 1866. The abuse of their relationship increased overtime with one of the worst events occurring just prior to the Mardi Gras Ball which would have occurred a year later in February of 1867. Although Ashley makes an appearance at the ball, it was just for a visit to Atlanta as he and Melanie are still installed at Tara. In my timeline, I feel that Scarlett and Wade escape with Rhett in May of 67 – I guess the end of May would make the most sense based on the timeline of future events. At this point in the story, we have only managed to advance 7 days since they departed Atlanta (with that day being day 1). So, for anyone who is worrying about the folks at Tara and how they are getting along, at this point they have not gone for very long without Scarlett's assistance. Likely, at most, she would have only given them financial support on a monthly basis – perhaps even longer intervals would pass between her support. As well, Scarlett did write a letter to Melanie to reassure her that she was well. I'm sure they are all still concerned about her where-abouts, but again, she has actually only been missing from Atlanta for a week. Also, in this most recent chapter, I'm sorry that I wasn't as clear in my portrayal of the meeting with Dr. Madison (William). In my mind, they had discussed how they would present themselves and Scarlett's injuries, but Scarlett was just too embarrassed (with her southern belle mentality, she would be raised to not discuss personal and/or physical matters with strangers and would naturally be uncomfortable doing so). Also, as a reminder, when the trio first arrived in Marietta, Rhett had said that it would be best if they travelled as a family. Again, this is completely my fault for taking so long between updates, but just wanted to try to remind everyone of where we are at this point in time. Thank you so much for your patience with me._

 _Hopefully this brief summary brings everything back in line for all of the readers out there. I'm sorry that I haven't been more diligent about posting consistently. I honestly thought that I had enough of a head start to begin posting when I did, but clearly I didn't realize how much I had bitten off. With this post, this story is officially the longest story I have ever written, and I have been working on it for the longest period of time as well. I am committed to seeing it to completion so I hope you will continue to follow me along the journey. How much longer that will be, I truly do not know. I have another chapter that I am putting the finishing touches on right now and another in the works and I still feel as though I have so much more that I want to write for my favourite couple. I guess we are all here reading GWTW fanfiction because we just don't want the story to end. Hopefully, by continuing to add to my story, I'm helping to meet that want._

 _Thank you for reading (hopefully I haven't used up too much time with this waaayyyy tooooo long author's note). As always, most of the characters and most of the story do not belong to me. I am just borrowing them for a little while. Please don't sue. SS._

Chapter Fifteen

Rhett looked up at the bright sky, allowing the sun to warm his face for a moment, chasing away a little of his weariness. Sleep had not been swift-coming for him the night before. The trio had been quiet for the short carriage ride and return to their hotel room. Rhett had left Scarlett to assist Wade with his nightly ablutions once he was sure that she had endured the trip home sufficiently. Upon returning to the sitting area, he found it deserted and had instead found Scarlett curled up under the bedclothes in the other room. He had been a little surprised at how quickly she had retired for the night and suspected that she had been avoiding him. She had continued with her slumber until after he left in the morning, further cementing his assumption that she was playing at her slumber to avoid him. If she hadn't desperately needed the rest, he might have called her on her charade. But as it were, he made sure that Wade was well situated for the morning, with instructions to mind his mother and promises of a trip to the park in the afternoon if he behaved before leaving to meet with his friend.

He had let Scarlett avoid him but that had left him to his own musings and these had not led him down a path to easy slumber. Things were getting quickly and more thoroughly entangled and he was not seeing a quick an easy exit for any of them. Then, there was the matter of how things had been left in Atlanta. He almost longed for his days with the army – things seemed so much simpler then.

He returned his attention back to the flat façade of Miller Shipping Co. His friend's business was situated in a newly built area of Augusta that was only a short distance from the train station. He noted a bank, general store and a small saloon in the immediate area as well. Turning back to his destination, he opened the door and entered the small reception area. A young man, barely past the start of his second decade, lifted his head from a desk full of ledgers to greet him. After introducing himself and the purpose of his visit, the youth rose from his desk. Shuffling with the gait of someone newly acquainted with their height, he left Rhett to wait while he sought James from one of the rooms down the hallway that lead from the rear of the receiving space.

"Rhett!" his friend called ahead of his arrival to the entrance and clapped him on the back once he closed the distance between them.

It was clear that his friend had chosen to end his night early instead of spending those extra hours contemplating his current circumstances at the bottom of a glass of whiskey. Rhett returned the greeting a little less enthusiastically and followed James back down the hallway where his office stood behind the very last door. He looked around the decidedly masculine space, appraising it openly, knowing full well that his friend knew he was determining his level of success.

"Shipping on land seems to have been a successful venture for you. I wouldn't have thought it good business to set up offices so far from the shore."

"Of course you wouldn't. The sea is in your blood so why would you ever look to change a business that is traditionally shore bound and move it inland? Realistically, I probably would turn a little more profit in Savannah or Charleston, but Augusta is my hometown so I'm happy here. Now I don't suppose this is the business you wished to discuss, is it?"

Rhett grinned at how quickly his friend had gotten to the point. His directness was a trait he admired, having the same tendency himself.

"A rather astute observation," he replied.

"Well, I wouldn't imagine that you are surprised. You did just show up on my doorstep with a wife and child, and that is certainly not something I expected to see… for a decade at least, if ever at all."

"She's not my wife, James."

Rhett watched his friend's face for some sign of reaction, but his features remained schooled in a bland expression, giving no change at his confession.

"I can't say that I'm surprised," he responded after a minute. "In your case that is, but with her. Well, I don't know her of course, but she doesn't seem like the mistress type."

"She's not. Her son, Wade is from her first marriage. Wade's father died at the start of the war before he was born."

James inclined his head and with a little movement of his hands, incited him to continue.

"I saw her often in Atlanta during the war. Some would even say I courted her although they would be old gentry and that would be the only way they could describe our relationship." Rhett paused, looking out the window, thinking back to those days. "Ah hell, maybe I did."

His friend rose from his desk and walked to the cabinet behind him. He returned with a glass of amber liquid for each of them.

"I don't know," Rhett continued. "We were separated when the fighting reached Atlanta and when I next saw her, I was in jail and she was on the brink of losing her family home."

"There were so many families like that," James commented. "My own parents would have lost theirs if I hadn't been fortunate enough to have met up with you for that first blockade run. You convinced me of the foolishness of "honourably" following in my brother's footsteps and it saved me despite a little dishonour. I'm not surprised that you did the same for her."

Rhett took a long drink from his glass, trying to forget the opportunity that she had provided and he hadn't taken.

"I didn't," Rhett answered. "I couldn't. I didn't have any money and the strings that you had helped me pull hadn't been pulled tight enough to risk getting access to the money I had stashed in Europe."

'You were my first choice after all.'

He scrubbed a hand across his face, trying to erase the memory permanently.

"Well, how did…"

"She got married again. By the time I was released the deed was done."

"She's married to someone else!" James stood up and this time he brought the bottle to his desk, topping up each of their glasses despite the early hour. "Jesus Christ, Rhett! Did you steal someone's wife?"

Rhett didn't answer, but instead took another hearty drink from his glass. James raked a hand through his chestnut hair.

"You brought her to my house – as your wife!"

"I know. I needed your help. I still need your help. How well do you know William? Can I really trust him?"

"With this? Rhett, I don't know if you can trust me with this?"

"Now listen, you don't know everything. Frank, her husband, he's a bastard. Worse than a bastard…. I don't think I know a name bad enough to describe him." He paused, contemplating the glass in front of him and pushing down the anger that surged whenever he thought of Scarlett's cruel consort. "He's been beating her."

James had been about to take a drink, but he stopped at Rhett's declaration, glass held in midair.

"Yes, the bastard hit her, whipped her, I don't even know the half of what he did to her. So yes, I stole her from him."

"I hate men like that." James had spoken calmly, danger laced in the steel pronouncement.

"I don't know if hate is a strong enough word." Rhett took a drink and the burning liquid cooled his ire slightly. "Scarlett needs a doctor – one that I can trust. Is William that man?"

James nodded.

"She is still injured and she has scars that show that she was beaten, whipped," he growled this last. "And now William tells us that she is pregnant."

James raked another hand through his hair. Rhett was laying everything on him now.

"I need someone to properly treat her. I have to be able to tell him everything as I have told you. Do you think he's the man for the job?"

"He is," the younger man assured. "We grew up just a few houses away from each other and I've known him since we were children. He is a good doctor, too. Educated up North with the more modern theories and treatments."

"Alright. I will call on him and make arrangements for Scarlett to have a more thorough examination."

"Rhett, I have to say that I'm surprised that you would let yourself get into this situation. With everything Scarlett has been through, why would you ever risk getting her with child?"

Rhett looked away from the window he had been contemplating at the slight harshness in his friend's tone. His eyes were met with an accusing gaze. He couldn't blame his friend; he would probably be a little disgusted if his friend had sexual relations with a woman in Scarlett's position and even more so if he hadn't bothered to take any precautions.

"The baby isn't mine."

Rhett saw the accusation clear from his visage, replaced with a more solemn expression as James fully digested the circumstances of the pair. Both men grew quiet, each to their own thoughts, sipping at their liquor a little more conservatively now. After a few minutes, Rhett broke the silence.

"There is more that I need of you."

James smiled, a brief flash of neat white teeth with little humor evident. "Of course there is."

"Before we came here, I had returned briefly to Atlanta to tidy up a few loose ends. I ended up having to take leave of the town more quickly than originally planned. I, uh, might have left a bit of a mess in my hasty departure."

"A mess?"

He shrugged. "I hadn't planned on it, but there might have been an incident with that bastard."

"Might have? Just what kind of an incident are we talking about?"

"Well, I didn't kill him so obviously I was very restrained," Rhett grinned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I was hoping you could go there and feel things out for me."

James raised an eyebrow in question.

"Scarlett cannot handle much travel right now but I need to know if we need to risk travelling further."

"Okay, Rhett, I will head there for a few days and see what I can find out. You're lucky that I found Scarlett to be rather charming during our little visit last night. Otherwise, I might have to start accumulating a bill for services rendered."

"I would expect no less," Rhett offered with a wry grin.

Rhett remained for the better part of an hour, fully relating the details of his visit to Atlanta so James would know exactly what he was investigating. He asked him to relay a few directions to the branch manager at the National Bank as well. He also took the opportunity to compose a brief letter to an old friend from Charleston, who happened to be an attorney, that James would mail from Atlanta as well. They discussed a few scenarios for Rhett's next steps and although he appreciated having someone as astute as James to bounce ideas off, it was all just a simple exercise until they knew the temperature in Atlanta and the true status of Scarlett's health.

After leaving James's office, Rhett headed to the doctor's home, where he also conducted most of his regularly scheduled patient visits. His conversation with William had gone fairly similarly to his conversation with James – only without the friendly edge to the accusations. It was a little more palatable to Rhett to have the doctor assume that, despite her injurious state, he had bedded Scarlett but it still ate at his gut. What kind of a man would take a woman to his bed when it clearly wasn't safe for her to do so? How could either man ever think that he could be that kind of man? Given the fact that he had nearly a decade on each of them, it was safe to say that both should know that even if he had slept with Scarlett, he would know enough to take proper precautions. Once William had recognized the full truth of the couple's circumstances, he agreed to take charge of her care so long as they were able to remain in Marietta. Assistance secured, Rhett returned to his waiting charges at the hotel.

 _Not quite as long of an update as I had originally intended, but the next part got away from me and decided that it needed to have a chapter all of its own. If you are still interested in this story, please let me know. And, also, thank you for sticking with me over what has now been a full year of posting! Wow! SS._


	17. Chapter Sixteen

_Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story. Your readership and reviews have helped to keep me dedicated to this story even when the nights get late. Please let me know your thoughts, good or bad, on this latest chapter. SS._

Chapter Sixteen

Their midday meal had been an excruciatingly quiet affair. Scarlett did manage to eat some of the soup despite how much time she spent shifting in her seat and moving the remainder of her food aimlessly around its plate. Wade had been unusually subdued as well and Rhett wondered at their time alone that morning.

"Wade, finish up your plate so we can leave for the park soon. It's a fine day out today."

The small boy sat up a little straighter, a small smile appearing around his fork. "We're still goin', Unca' Rhett?" he asked around a mouthful of food.

"Wade!" Scarlett scolded sharply. "Mind your manners!"

"It's alright, Scarlett. It's just the three of us and the boy is a little excited. But, Wade, you really should try to remember to call me 'papa'. Even when we're alone. It will be easier for you when there are others around."

"And, Scarlett, I don't think we will want to wait until you have cleaned your plate, but I do think you should join us. Are you almost finished or do you need to rearrange your plate a little more before you are ready?"

Despite his intent, he had failed to keep the sarcastic edge from his voice, the awkward meal grating on his already taut nerves. Scarlett looked up from her plate, straightening slightly and he could see that she was a little taken aback by his ire. She opened her mouth, but closed it again and dropped her eyes back to her plate.

"I, uh, I think I will stay here. You and Wade go along without me."

"Nonsense," he replied in a softer tone. "It will do you good to get outside for a little while and I will make sure you don't over exert yourself. While Wade is playing, it will give us some time to talk as well. Now, how about you have a few more bites… for me?"

Wade had jumped from the table as soon as his plate was emptied and ran into his room. Soft noises carried through the doorway and Rhett imagined the boy was tidying himself up as Rhett often made him prior to their leaving for the park. He turned his attention back to Scarlett and noticed that she was wearing his least favourite of the dresses he had purchased for her. A drab brown frock with no embellishments save a row of dark brown buttons along the front. Initially, he would have never considered the dress but since their choices had been limited he had gone ahead with the purchase. He refrained from expressing his distaste however. She had little to choose from and hadn't known that they would be going out this afternoon so it made sense that she had worn the tasteless dress on a day like today. He wouldn't bring it up however or give her the opportunity to change as she would use it as an excuse to stay behind.

The trio were ready to leave for the park shortly afterward and mindful of Scarlett's limitations, Rhett led them slowly to the small park that was just a short walk from their hotel. Wade had danced ahead of them, slowing occasionally until they would reach him and then he would try to walk alongside the pair, but then dance a little ways ahead once again. Rhett chuckled lightly at the boy's boundless energy.

"Wade," he called out to the boy as they neared a pair of gates that indicated the entrance to the park. "Come back this way."

The boy skipped back and followed them along the pathway into the park. They walked until Rhett spied a shaded bench that looked upon a small stream that ran along the far perimeter of the park.

"Wade, you may play near the stream but not in the water," Rhett advised. "I am going to sit here a while with your mother but afterwards, I will join you and then you may splash in the stream if you wish."

Scarlett was already settled on the bench as her son raced off, exploring in a way that only a four-year-old could. Rhett sat beside her and removed his cigar case from his jacket pocket. He retrieved a cheroot and a match, crossing his ankle across his knee and he lit the match from the sole of his shoe.

"So, my pet, are you at all curious as to how I spent my morning?"

"Well, I… it isn't my place to pry." She lowered her lashes and looked at her hands clasped in her lap.

"Right. Let's start with this. I think it's fair to say that we have long crossed the lines of proprieties, have we not?" He paused and her cheeks coloured slightly. "We have. So enough with the Southern belle sensibilities and what's proper. We have, in the past, dealt with each other rather frankly and we will continue to do so. But, since we no longer have to put up false pretences, let's not dance around before we get to the point of our conversations. I will be upfront and honest with you and I expect the same of you. Agreed?"

She nodded silently and then asked: "So where did you go this morning?"

He smiled. "Much better. I started my morning with a visit to James in his office." He paused, but she remained quiet so he elaborated: "I asked him to go to Atlanta to gather some information for me. I wasn't fully forthcoming about my visit last week. I ran into Frank while I was there."

"What? Rhett, how could you? Why didn't you tell me?" Fear turned her eyes the palest shade of green.

"Well, there were other priorities such as getting us out of Marietta. Then, there was the surprise that was dealt to us yesterday. You would have to agree that there hasn't been much time."

"But, Rhett, how could you meet with Frank?" she turned her focus back the hands clasped in her lap and began twisting them nervously.

"I didn't intend to see him at all, my dear. I was walking to my hotel room and he walked out of a bar right ahead of me. I really should have turned around and walked in the other direction, but I just couldn't." He shrugged unabashedly. "Unfortunately, things got a little carried away and although I didn't outright admit to it, I fear there's little doubt in his mind that you are with me or at the very least, that I aided in your escape."

"But, what does that mean?" her voice was soft, but still managed to reach his ears clearly.

"Well, that is what James is going to find out," he answered, tipping her chin up until their eyes met. "I told him everything and he is a smart man. I trust him to determine whether we need to leave Augusta or if we can stay longer."

"Why should we risk it? Shouldn't we just keep moving and find somewhere further from Atlanta?"

"Scarlett, I would be more than happy to continue with our travels, but I am still worried about your health. Here, we have friends including a doctor who is also fully informed of our circumstances. That makes Augusta a very valuable locale for the time being. I am loathe to give it up unless we have no other choice."

Scarlett thought over Rhett's words, turning everything over until she recalled that he said that both his friend and the doctor had been 'fully informed' of their situation.

"Oh, Rhett, you told them everything. How could you?" Her cheeks colored and she again directed her gaze to her lap.

He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. She tensed at first, but then relaxed slightly under his touch. "Scarlett, you have to understand that I had no choice but to tell them. I needed James to look into Atlanta for me so it was necessary that he know exactly what we were dealing with. He also assured me that William is a trustworthy and knowledgeable doctor and we need someone like him for you."

He read the discomfort that played across her features, discomfort and surprisingly, a measure of embarrassment.

"Honey, I know you would rather that we wouldn't have to tell anyone, but sometimes you need to let people in so they can help you."

"But, Rhett, now they know. How could I ever face them again? Now that they know that I'm a fool who… who… married the wrong man and couldn't keep him from getting so upset that he hit her and now I'm… I'm disgraced and I don't have anywhere to go and… and…."

Scarlett had covered her face with her hand, but Rhett quickly pulled it down, clasping it between both of his hands.

"Scarlett, my dear, now that's enough of this distress. It doesn't serve any purpose and other than the fact that you married the wrong man, everything else you said is completely untrue."

Her watery eyes met his as he spoke and he winced at the shame he found in their jade depths.

"Listen to me. None of this is your fault. Even picking Frank wasn't your fault." He paused for a breath. "I believe you had once said that I was your first choice so by your reasoning, I'm as much to blame as you are – perhaps even more so."

"But, I …"

"No, Scarlett, I won't hear it. Frank is a terrible man and everything he did to you was because of who he is not who you are. James and William might have their opinions but I assure you they are all about Frank. They have the utmost respect for you and are happy to help us until we can get ourselves into better circumstances."

"Better circumstances? I don't see how things are going to get any better."

"My dear, things are already better. I am hoping that James will find that we can stay here until your ribs are fully healed and I have also spoken to William and he agreed to treat you and see to your recovery. So you see this is much better than where we were just a week ago."

"But, I'm pregnant. We didn't know that a week ago."

"No, Scarlett, we might not have known a week ago, but the fact remains and bears light to some of your illness. In truth, it puts my mind at ease as I had worried that you had further internal injuries that Doctor Meade had failed to diagnose. This pregnancy isn't the best of news, but it certainly helps to explain your symptoms in a better light."

"But a baby! Frank's baby! How can I…"

"No, you are not having Frank's baby!" His voice rose with anger and he fought to rein it in. "As far as I'm concerned, that man no longer has any rights to you or your body. This baby is yours. Ours."

"Ours? Rhett, you know that isn't true."

"We can make it true. If you will marry me."

"Rhett Butler, is this one of your vile jokes?"

"I assure you, my dear, my intentions are sincere."

"But, Rhett, I can't marry you. In case you've forgotten, I'm already married."

"Is that the only reason? What if I said I could take care of that?"

"What do you mean? A divorce? You are not right in the head if you think Frank would ever agree to one."

"No, not a divorce. I am certain we could never secure one, but even if we could, a divorce would take too long. Yet, the question remains, my pet. If I could arrange for you to be married to me, would you have me?"

"But, Rhett, you had always said that you were not the marrying type."

"My dear, I still am not a marrying man, but I have always intended having you, Scarlett, since that first day I saw you at Twelve Oaks when you threw that vase and swore and proved that you weren't a lady. I always intended having you, one way or another. Based on our current situation, it appears as though marriage is the only answer. Now, I just need an answer from you."

"Rhett, of course, but I…"

"No, Scarlett, no questions. Let's just have this one small moment. Perhaps it will help if I get down on one knee to show my sincerity. Will you my dear, will you consent to marry me?"

The colour rose in her cheeks as he moved from the bench to kneel before her. She smiled slightly before answering softly with a "yes". He kissed the back of her hand and returned to his seated position on the bench before they drew too much attention. He fingered the small band on her left hand.

"I shall find a replacement for that, but for the time being, to continue with our ruse, you will unfortunately have to continue to wear it."

"Well, of course, I would still have to wear my ring. We are not yet married and I don't think it's as simple as just taking my ring off to end my ties to Frank."

"No, not initially my dear, but I'm afraid there will be very little ceremony with my plan."

"So, can you please tell me now? What is this plan?"

"Mama, look!" Wade came running toward them, preventing Rhett from answering. His hands were cupped and held out awkwardly before him as he ran. "I caught a butterfly!"

The boy opened his dirty hands and revealed a small pair of blue and yellow wings. The wings opened and closed over the boy's small hands giving evidence to the care he had taken in transporting the treasure.

"What a beautiful butterfly," she commented. "Now, Wade, be very careful. You don't want to hurt it."

"Look, Papa," the boy turned so his hands were held open to Rhett. With the movement, the butterfly took flight and danced away on the air. Disappointment flitted briefly across the boy's features, but were quickly chased away by a shy smile. "Can we go and play in the stream now?"

"Not quite yet, son. I still have a few more things to discuss with your mother, but I will be able to join you soon. Why don't you see if you can find some nice flowers for her?"

The young boy skipped away and Rhett turned his attention back to Scarlett.

"We are in a challenging position where time is not our friend. I think the best and quickest way to end your marriage to Frank is to make it illegitimate. I'm afraid I have been thinking on this since we left Atlanta and with this latest development, I fear this is really our only solution."

"Illegitimate? How can we do that?"

"We will work with the truth and adjust it slightly to our circumstances. I have a few friends in the right places that can assist with our adjustments."

"Rhett, you know I have no idea what you are talking about. I thought we agreed to speak plainly and not play any games or speak in riddles!"

"Touché, my dear." He grinned briefly before continuing: "Allow me to speak more plainly as I explain my plan further. Do you recall the night we escaped Atlanta when the Yankees had come?"

"How could I ever forget? You left me stranded with a sick woman, a newborn and a darkie to care for. How I ever made it to Tara, I will never know?"

"Yes, yes, it was not one of my finer moments. Leaving you to fend for yourself all in the name of a lost cause. Well, think back to that night? I was heading off into war. What if we had eloped on the road to Tara before I left? Or in the days before when we were both in Atlanta? Me waiting on you to find safety and you waiting out Beau's birth? What if I had gone to war a married man?"

"But Rhett, that didn't happen."

"I know my dear, but if we had proof that it did, well it would mean that you couldn't have legally married Frank."

"But I did. In a church and everything. Oh, mother is probably rolling over in her grave with this talk."

"Now, Scarlett, it would do me no good to go through the efforts of making us married only to have you charged with bigamy. Give me a little more credit to come up with a better plan than that."

He tipped her chin up to look at his face instead of her hands. He raised an eyebrow in question and she raised one of her own in response. Rhett chuckled softly.

"As I was saying, your marriage to Frank happened while I was in jail. Correct?"

She nodded but remained silent allowing him to continue.

"In fact, my freedom was not secured until after the wedding had occurred. I was scheduled to be hanged, as you knew, and that hanging would have occurred prior to that marriage if not for the diligent efforts of the very man who is helping us today. As it were, James worked tirelessly until his connections could secure a delay and then subsequently, my release. The truth of the matter is that my original hanging was scheduled prior to your marriage."

He waited while her mind worked through the details as he laid them out. She chewed on her lip and twisted her fingers in her lap, but eventually he saw a glimmer of understanding cross her brow.

"You see, it could be said that you assumed I was dead. The situation at Tara required immediate attention which is why you married Kennedy so quickly. The reality was that you hadn't seen or heard from me for well over a year when you finally met with me at the jail so it's not as though our marriage had been a close one." He winked and grinned a wry grin.

"But then, then, once you got out of jail, you came to see me. I knew you were alive. If we were married, wouldn't I have said something then?"

"Well, clearly you didn't." His grin grew broader. "But perhaps, we discussed it. This turn of circumstances. Perhaps we discussed how to sort things out and didn't finally come to an agreement until just recently when we decided to leave. We will leave out the true details of your horrid relationship with Frank. It's easier for others to accept that we are just doing what is right and not let them know of the nightmare you are escaping."

He let the story turn in her mind once more, allowing her to digest the details of the plan he had solidified over his whisky the night before. Since the beginning of their journey, he had been thinking of the varied ways to free Scarlett from her marriage, but this had been his preferred solution from the start. Maybe because it was his way of turning back the hands of time in some way. Fulfilling his wish that he had done things differently back then so he could have saved her from all of her hardships. The fact that in some way, he had joined the army for her seems so illogical when looking back now.

Now, with the impending arrival of a baby, this plan really was the quickest option and therefore, their only solution. It also was the only one that allowed Scarlett to return to her kin once Kennedy had cooled down without too black of a mark on her reputation.

"So, is it really that simple?" Her quiet statement broke through the inner chatter of his thoughts.

"It is for a blackguard like me with a few dollars and a few friends in the right places," he grinned. "It's a simple enough story to remember. If we're going to have to tell a lie, then weaving it into many truths makes it much easier to remember."

"Well, we should say that we were married before we left Atlanta. Melly would know that we didn't stop along the way to Tara and well, I don't think she would tell anyone, but I would hate for her to know that we lied."

"Yes. I would also hate for her to be in a position where she would have to compromise her integrity in the interest of corroborating our tale."

He took her hand in his once again. "So it's set then – well everything except the date. I believe that Sherman drove us from Atlanta on the first of September. What date shall you have us have wed? The same day? The day before?"

"Oh no, I was with Melly all that day. None of those days would work. It would have to be the thirtieth or the twenty-ninth? Yes, the twenty-ninth would be best, I think."

"Well, there we have it my dear. Why our three year anniversary is only a few months away." He winked, raised her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against the back of it.

 _There we have it… our latest chapter. I definitely would appreciate some feedback. There are so many different ways I toyed with having this "proposal" come about so I would love to find out how this final version played out within this story. I've been playing with it too much to be objective any longer. Thanks for reading. SS._


	18. Chapter Seventeen

_Well, here we are back again. I have to say that when this idea first entered my mind, I knew it wouldn't be a quick little story but I had no idea that I would end up with something quite this involved. I am having fun though and I really appreciate all of the readers and reviewers – even if I haven't always found the time to reply to them. Thank you so much for coming along this journey and for giving me encouragement when I had lost the motivation to type_ _Here is the latest…. There is still more to come. As always, I don't own any of the characters (except those two gentlemen from Augusta) and am not making any money off of this work of fiction. All rights belong to the estate of MM. SS._

Chapter Seventeen

That evening, the trio enjoyed a quiet, but comfortable supper and Rhett was pleased to see that Scarlett had managed to consume much more of the food presented to her than she had at any of their previous sittings. Once the plates were cleared, Rhett helped Wade clean up thoroughly before changing for bed. After their afternoon at the park, the fresh air had helped to lower his eyes only a few pages into their story. Closing the door to the bedroom, he found Scarlett waiting for him on the sofa, seated nearest to the fireplace.

"Would you like to join me for an after dinner drink, Scarlett? A small glass of mulberry wine might help you sleep more deeply."

"No thank you," she answered. "I am rather tired already so I'm sure I will sleep well on my own."

"That's good to hear, my dear. We have another busy day ahead of us tomorrow. During my meeting with William, we determined that it would be best for him to undertake a more thorough examination to be certain that we know the full extent of your injuries and can gauge the healing. He asked that we come to his home before dinner as his afternoon is already fully booked."

"Oh, tomorrow? So soon?"

He patted her knee. "There is no point in delaying the visit. I know you are worried, but there is nothing to fear. Doctor Madison is a well-educated man and I am confident he will offer you the best of care."

"I guess so. I just…"

"Scarlett, trust me. You will feel better once you have seen him than you do right now, worrying about seeing him. Just don't dwell on it for now."

"What would you have me dwell on Rhett? There's not much else to think about, now is there?"

There was a snap in her voice and a spark in her eyes that brought a warmth to his heart. These small glimpses of the woman he had known prior to the war, gave him hope that one day she would return permanently. His mouth quirked up at one side despite efforts to keep his smile at bay.

"Perhaps, I could distract you with a story such as I do with young Wade," he offered instead. "Would you like to know about the time when I first met James?"

The fire had flared in her eyes as he had compared her to her son, but faded as her interest peaked with the offer of a story from Rhett's past. "Oh, yes, please. He seems so similar to you, but yet he is much younger so it seems as though he should be much more different." 

"Much younger? Really? Maybe this old man will need to get himself off to bed instead of telling a silly tale." He kept a teasing lilt to his voice, but still couldn't help but feel a little jab at her reminder of his age. He often didn't feel much older than back in the days when he had first started earning his way at the gaming tables. It was only occasionally, such as when he was faced with someone like James who was ten years his junior, that he realized the years that had actually passed between those early poker nights and today.

"Oh Rhett, don't be silly. What, you can only be a few years older than James. I'm just surprised that he seems to have nearly as much sophistication as you. Please, tell me how you met."

"Well, alright, since you did say please. If you might recall, I was in Clayton County when the start of the war was declared."

Scarlett flushed slightly at the memory of that afternoon.

"Right. Not wanting to be too far inland once the true fighting began, while the troops were assembled, I made my way to Savannah." Rhett continued his tale, including some details of how he secured the beginnings of his illustrious career as a blockade runner.

"About a week before I was ready to leave for Europe, another trainload of troops arrived at the town centre, providing a few more ready and willing participants for the nightly poker games at the hotel. James was a part of these latest arrivals and quickly showed himself to be an astute player as well. That is until the night grew longer."

He paused and left her side to top up his glass and this time returned with a glass of water for her as well. She took it and drank slowly before placing it on the table next to her, anxious for Rhett to continue his story. Not only was she curious as to the outcome, but also found a simple sense of peace listening as he weaved his tale.

"He, as many of the other players at the table, were well enjoying their whiskeys with their cards. Young as he was, James was soon well on his way to drunk and with his increased drunkenness, his play grew more and more aggressive. With his aggressiveness, he quickly drew low on his funds as he made poor judgement with his bets and became careless with his play, alcohol making his face more easily readable especially for someone as skilled as I."

Scarlett closed her eyes briefly, trying to imagine the younger James from Rhett's tale. She failed to draw up any image other than that of her first meetings with the man, but easily recalled Rhett as he had changed little since that first day when she had met him at the Wilkes barbecue.

"Eventually, I had him with all of his coins on the table and yet he was still wishing to raise the stakes. I allowed him to wager his room key, pistol and dagger and then showed him my winning hand."

"Rhett, how could you? He was headed to war and you were going to send him to fight the Yankees without any weapons or any sleep!"

"My dear, I intended to do no such thing, I promise you. I just meant to teach him a lesson. Once I had cleared him of his funds, I bought him a few drinks and then brought him to my room to sleep his night off. I wanted him to wake up penniless, weaponless and with a heavy head so he would learn that there were times when everyone needed to call an end to a night. Even a good night. He thwarted my plan, however," Rhett finished this last with a chuckle.

"What happened?" Scarlett was fully entrenched in his tale.

"I had fallen asleep on the sofa having relinquished my bed to the young soldier and when I woke up, my hands and feet were tied together and James was sitting on a chair, watching me while holding the vase from the wash basin over my head."

"Oh my," Scarlett exclaimed. "What happened next?"

"Well, he demanded I return his belongings and I agreed but with a small condition: that he join me for breakfast before he left. Obviously, he hadn't expected such a simple demand so he agreed. It was over that meal that I was able to show him the error of his ways and why joining the troops would not only possibly get him killed, but also leave him and his family penniless even if he somehow managed to survive the war. Fortunately, I had read James correctly and he saw the wisdom of my advice."

"Oh, Rhett, of course he did. How could anyone ever resist you when you put your mind to something?"

"Well, you certainly did despite my best efforts, my dear."

"Oh, what? Well, I…" Flustered, Scarlett dropped her gaze from his as a faint blush coloured her cheekbones.

Rhett chuckled and rose to replenish his drink. He returned, sitting once again beside her on the small sofa. She surprised him by dropping her head on his shoulder.

"I wish I hadn't," she said softly.

He sighed, not giving voice to his own thoughts but wishing he had tried harder when he had had the chance.

The pair sat quietly, each to their own thoughts until eventually, Rhett noticed that Scarlett's breathing had slowed. A quick glance showed that her eyes were closed in slumber. He placed his glass on the table and shifted slightly until he could cradle her in his arms. He rose then and carried her to the bedroom, her slight weight barely slowing his steps. He lowered her to the bed and she murmured as he released her.

"What's that, my dear? Shall I help you with your dress so you may sleep more comfortably?"

She struggled to an upright position, wakening more fully, and began unbuttoning the small black buttons that lined the front of her dress. She turned so her back faced him and her feet hung over the side of the bed opposite to where Rhett stood. She shrugged out of the sleeves before standing to allow the dress to fall at her feet. She turned back and lay on the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Rhett grinned at her display of independence. "Good night, my dear."

"Rhett?" Her small voice called to him from the edge of the covers. "Could you, I mean, would you stay for a while?"

Rhett stopped in his path from retrieving her dress to hang it up. He hesitated briefly before finishing his trip, hanging the dress before moving to the opposite side of the bed. Quickly, he removed his shoes, jacket and dress shirt before rising to leave his trousers on the chair next to the bed with the other items. Returning to the bed, he promptly ensconced himself beneath the bedding before she retracted her request.

She rolled to face him and the warmth of her body called to him. Without any thought, he wrapped his arms around her, erasing the remaining distance between them. Glancing down, he found misty jade eyes staring up at him. Her lips parted slightly as small breaths escaped, whispering against his collar bone. He held her gaze, waiting for her to turn away or close her eyes to him but she continued to search his eyes as he did hers.

The moments stretched until he could hold her gaze no longer. He shifted his eyes to her mouth. Her lips were slightly pursed, seeming to call for him to taste them. As he pondered the taste of those rosy petals, the tip of her tongue appeared, moistening them before disappearing nearly as quickly as it had arrived. He swiftly chased after it, dipping his head and capturing her lips with his own. Their softness melded with his while his hand moved to cup her cheek. Slowly, his lips moved over hers until she opened to him and he deepened the kiss. His tongue found hers and they tangled until he heard a small sound escape from the back of her throat.

Pulling from a reserve deep within, Rhett reluctantly ended the kiss. He still held her close and his thumb traced along the line of her cheekbone. She was slightly breathless and a pleasant flush crossed her cheeks, her lips slightly swollen from their embrace. He swallowed a growl that rose within as the need to kiss her again resonated through him. He forced a long, slow exhale and closed his eyes against the vision before him. His fingers tangled in her hair and he gently pressed her head against his chest. He forcefully exhaled once again, reigning in the desire that pulsed within, stroking her back slowly until her breaths had slowed as well.

He continued stroking her back until long after she had fallen asleep. He knew that he should leave the bed, for his own sanity more than any other reason, but found that he couldn't seem to pull himself away. Her body fit perfectly against his, bringing forth thoughts of how they would fit together in other ways. He could still feel the sweet press of her lips when they had met his and he knew he would be tasting them again and soon. But for tonight, he had overreached the bounds of their relationship. They may be playing at husband and wife, but they both knew that they were not. She had asked him for comfort and he had taken advantage of the opportunity she had provided. With everything that Scarlett had endured, he knew that he needed to proceed cautiously. He had told her once that he wanted her, but all of her, and that sentiment rang even more true this night. The feeling of her responding to his kiss had just driven home his need to have her fully and he was determined to ensure that it would not be a singular event.

Carefully, he shifted her until his arms were free and she was no longer nestled against his chest but rather the pillow at his side. Rising from the bed, he quickly donned his pants and pulled on his dress shirt. Turning back to Scarlett, he pulled the blanket up a little closer to her chin and pressed a light kiss against her temple.

"Sleep tight, my love," he whispered softly before leaving the room. He closed the door softly behind him and moved to the sitting room where he poured himself a glass of whisky. He placed the glass on the mantle of the fire place, rolled up his shirt sleeves while leaving his shirt unbuttoned, and stoked the fire to replace the warmth he had left behind in the bedroom.

A baby. A child. A wife. His thoughts returned to his circumstances and he drained the glass in front of him. He filled his glass again as he thought of the late night card games in Atlanta, the parties in New Orleans, the many trips to Paris and London and how all of this had suddenly changed for him. Possibly not forever but certainly for the foreseeable near future if not for the next few years. Had he taken on too much? Was he really ready for the task that was now set before him? Was he prepared to leave his old life behind?

The vision of her swollen lips flashed and the spark in her eye when she was angry. He remembered the feel of her slight form when he held her in his arms. Her tear-stained cheeks. Her scarred back.

He drained the contents of his glass once again.

There really was no other choice to be made. He refilled his glass and brought both the bottle and the glass to the sofa. His life as he had known it was irrevocably changed. Why that reality hadn't settled in until this night, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was the fact of his pseudo-proposal this afternoon in the park that had driven it home. Maybe it was his holding her in his arms in her bed? Maybe it was just that he finally had the time to think about the consequences of his actions rather than planning for the next?

Regardless of the reason, he knew that at this point in time, his life as he knew it would never be the same. What he didn't know was how he felt about that change.

 _Well, I thought we were due for a little bit of romance between our pair. Please let me know your thoughts about the scene… it wasn't originally part of the plan for this chapter, but seemed to make an appearance all on its own. Hopefully it seemed realistic for the circumstances. Thank you for reading and your thoughts, if you choose to share them as well. SS._


	19. Chapter Eighteen

_Yes, I am finally back with another update. I apologize for the delay, but sometimes things just take a little longer to work out. It doesn't help the speed of posting when a chapter takes on a life of its own and turns into a behemoth either! I have tweaked this a few times and debating posting it in two parts but the only natural break point seemed too short to post alone so I left it as one giant chapter instead. The size makes it tough to "tweak" because I always feel the need to read it from beginning to end… hopefully, I've made enough passes and this make sense for everyone._

 _As always, GWTW and the characters belong to MM's estate. No harm is intended in my use of them here. Please do not sue. And, now that this has been covered (again), it's time to return to our show. SS._

Chapter Eighteen

"Momma, momma. Wake up, momma."

Wade's soft voice carried through the mist, pulling her forward until the sound of her cries also reached her ears. Struggling awake, she opened her eyes and found his warm brown eyes staring intently at her.

"Momma, you were cryin' and yellin' and it scared me. I thought Unca' Frank was here."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she replied now more fully awake. "It was just a bad dream. I'm sorry I woke you."

Scarlett looked over and saw that she was alone in her bed despite having fallen asleep in Rhett's arms. There was a slight grey light coming in through the window indicating that the early morning hours had just arrived. She wondered then where Rhett was at such an early hour. If her cries had woken Wade, who was normally a sound sleeper, he would have certainly heard them as well.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Wade shuffled down until he lay beside her. He lay his arm across her middle and his head against her chest. "A hug helps me aft' a bad dream," he added as he squeezed slightly.

She put her arms around him and kissed the top of his head. "Thank you," she murmured into the muss of his hair. Mother and son lay quietly for a while until Scarlett thought that maybe her son had returned to slumber.

"Momma?" his soft voice penetrated the silence in the room.

"Yes, Wade?"

"Is Unca' Frank gonna come find us?"

"No honey," she answered, stroking his back, "we're safe with Uncle Rhett."

"But what if he comes and Unca' Rhett's sleepin' like today?"

"Don't worry, Wade. I don't think we're ever going to see him again, but if we do, I'm sure that Rhett will keep us safe."

He moved his head slightly against her chest and she imagined he was nodding in agreement with her prediction. Her eyes grew heavy as the last remnants of the adrenaline from her nightmare left her system. They had just drifted shut when Wade shifted and turned away from her, his elbow brushing roughly against her ribs. She bit her lip and inhaled sharply against the pain but managed to not cry out. He lay on his back with her arm pillowing his head while she closed her eyes, willing the pain to fade. He rolled over again, but this time she shifted before any of his body parts could connect with hers.

"Momma?"

"Yes, Wade?" Despite her best efforts, she couldn't keep the edge of annoyance from her voice.

"D'you feel better now? S'okay if I sleep in my room?"

"Yes, thank you," she answered more softly this time.

"Will you," he started before a yawn overtook him. "Will you come with me? It's dark out there."

She rose slowly from the bed, testing her ribs but finding that they didn't protest any more than usual. She held her hand out to the small boy, realizing now that he had braved the shadows to come to her rescue and loving him a little more than she had just a few minutes ago. He held her hand tightly and rubbed his eyes with the other as she walked him to the room next to hers. As he climbed beneath the covers, she realized that the other bed in the room had remained unslept in and she wondered at that fact. Tugging the bedsheets up to his chin, she stroked his hair off his forehead before pressing a quick kiss on his brow.

Entering the sitting area, she finally looked over to find Rhett sprawled on the sofa. His head and body lie flat on the seat of the small sofa while one leg was thrown over the arm at the far side and the other hung to the side to rest on the floor. His shirt was open and the stark white linen of left front panel created a distinct line against the smooth tan skin of his chest and abdomen. The right side draped over his arm and down the side of the sofa. The fire had died down and she wondered at how he could sleep in such an uncomfortable position and with the slight chill in the air.

Her eyes lingered on the smooth lines of his chest and abdomen, having never had the opportunity to study a man so openly, not that she had ever desired to do so before. Even in slumber, she recognized the strength that lay just below his olive skin, his muscles evident even in rest. Strangely, she had always recognized the power hidden beneath his fine clothes, yet despite this, she had never feared him. She shrugged away the realization, too tired to analyze it at such an early hour.

She pulled her eyes away from his chest and instead turned her gaze toward his face. His features were slack with slumber, his hair was dishevelled and she thought he looked much younger in sleep. A slight stubble had already appeared across his cheek and her fingers twitched with the sudden desire to stroke it.

The whiskey decanter sat on the table at his head and she noted that it was nearly empty. A glass lie on its side on the carpet next to his hand as further evidence to how he had passed the late hours of the evening. The hours after he had just kissed her so passionately and held her so tenderly that she had thought he had some semblance of feelings for her. That he wasn't just with her out of some sort of obligation or pity. It appeared as though that had not been the case. He must have hated every moment of it. So much so that he had left as soon as she had fallen asleep and drank until the tiny couch had seemed like a comfortable bed. More appealing than the bed he had left her alone in. She was suddenly beset with an overwhelming sadness. She had always felt as though there was something special between them, but clearly there was nothing more than some southern gentility and perhaps a slight friendly obligation.

Quietly, she walked back into the room where her son lay sleeping and pulled the top cover from the empty bed next to him. She returned to Rhett's side and carefully arranged the blanket over his sleeping form. Giving in to temptation, she lightly brushed the back of her hand along his darkened cheek and brushed an errant strand of hair away from his forehead with her fingertips. A tear slipped down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away before returning to her own bed for the few hours that remained before the new day started.

"Scarlett, my dear," his deep tones called to her as the light filled her eyes. His fingers brushed along her forehead and traced along her cheekbone. "I'm afraid I must wake you or we will be late for our appointment with Dr. Madison."

Her eyes blinked open and met his dark eyes. They seemed filled with kindness and something else, but she knew that was just a trick of the light or maybe her own imagination. She closed her eyes only to open them again, willing the sleep from her mind.

"As it is, we will have to be quick with our breakfast," he continued as she sat upright. He rose and pulled a blue dress from the wardrobe. "Would you like me to help you with your dress first or would you rather something to eat?"

"No, I'll be fine," she answered softly. "I'll be ready in a just a few minutes."

She took a few deep breaths before standing and walking to the wash stand. Last night's water would have to suffice. She wasn't certain how late she had slept after the melancholy of her realization had dragged her back to a restless slumber. She was thankful that the sickness of the past few mornings seemed to be missing and she efficiently washed her hands and face in the tepid water.

Turning to her clothing, she noted that Rhett had also laid out a new chemise next to the blue dress he had chosen. Not that she would have chosen any other. The blue dress was the nicest dress in her limited wardrobe. It was a pale blue, the colour of a spring sky, offset with black buttons along the front and wrists and black piping that lined the high collar and waist. The fabric was gathered generously at the waist so this dress offered the fullest skirt of all of the dresses Rhett had bought for her. The bottom of the skirt was lined with a double row of black ribbon bringing a little sophistication to the otherwise simple day dress.

'Oh, how I wish I could have a proper bath," she thought as she dressed in her fresh clothes. 'And, what are we to do about laundering our clothes? Would the hotel take care of these things? Maybe they can bring a tub up to our room, too.'

She finished dressing just as Rhett knocked on the door of her room.

"Come in."

"Do you need…" Rhett began but stopped as he entered and saw that she was fully dressed. "I see you've managed all on your own. Except for your hair, that is. Let me help you."

She sat in the chair at the wash stand and offered her back to him. "Thank you, Rhett," she said softly. "I can't quite manage my hair as well on my own."

He worked the brush slowly through her tangles and inwardly she cringed at how dishevelled she must look. He worked quietly, but diligently and soon he was pulling her curls together at the nape of her neck, tying it with the black ribbon that she had set on the table the night before. A quick glance in the mirror showed her that Rhett had grown in his competence at taming her locks.

After a quick repast, the trio left for the short journey to the doctor's home. Rhett had arranged for a carriage and Scarlett was thankful for the ride even if the trip was just a few short blocks. They arrived without incident and approached what she assumed was the doctor's residence. The home was not overly large but had a stately appearance with large white columns rising to the second story and framing the wide entrance. Rhett knocked and Scarlett was surprised to see a black woman open the door. They were ushered into a simple parlour to the right of the foyer. They glanced around and prior to choosing from the seating options, they were joined by Doctor Madison.

"Mr. and Mrs. Butler," he said by way of greeting, "it's nice to see you again."

Scarlett smiled and tipped her head while Rhett held out his hand and the men shook in greeting. William then bent over and offered his hand to Wade who took it and shook it hesitantly.

"But please, William" Rhett said after the greeting, "let's dispense with the formalities as we've agreed upon already. I'm certain that Scarlett agrees that we are both more comfortable with first name relations."

As they were not really married, Scarlett thought that Rhett's insistence made complete sense.

"Yes, yes, of course," William answered. "Scarlett, if you will come with me, I will bring you to the examination room."

They walked down a short hallway until they reached its end. A dark wooden door stood ajar and Scarlett could see into the room. There was a small cupboard along one grey wall, two chairs flanking either side of it and a cot along the back wall. The woman who had answered the door was standing just inside, waiting for them.

"Ophelia, this is Scarlett. Scarlett, Ophelia is my assistant. She will help you with your dress so I may examine you properly."

William closed the door before Scarlett could express her displeasure at undressing with this strange woman, or at all. She took in the woman's appearance and noted that although her dress was plain, its soft grey colour complimented her skin tone and it appeared to be well made. Ophelia stood almost a full head taller than Scarlett, her dark hair was braided into a bun at the nape of her neck and she moved with a stately grace that Scarlett had longed to achieve since she was a young girl.

"Shall I help you with the buttons?" Ophelia asked and Scarlett was surprised that she lacked any of the characteristic drawl of the darkies that she had known throughout her life. If anything, the woman's tone had a slightly clipped edge that reminded her of an Englishman she had once met at one of the Wilkes' barbecues long before the war.

"No, no, thank you. I can manage," Scarlett answered.

She slowly worked on the buttons lining the front of her dress, nervous to have someone else view the damage that she knew lie just beneath her clothes. She tugged awkwardly on the left sleeve and Ophelia stepped forward. Quietly and efficiently, Scarlett found herself standing in her chemise, her dress draped across the back of a chair that Ophelia had moved toward the centre of the room.

"I will go and fetch Doctor Madison. You should sit in the chair and rest."

Scarlett perched on the edge of the chair that held her dress, longing for the security of a wrapper while she waited. She couldn't help but feel uncomfortable sitting in a stranger's home in nothing other than her chemise. All of her previous experience with doctors had been in her own bedroom with Mammy's comforting presence or more recently, the familiar presence of Prissy. She almost wished that Rhett would once again sit with her, but also was happy that he wasn't present. She was certain that this examination would be more involved than their cursory visit had been.

The door opened then, interrupting her thoughts and admitting Ophelia and Doctor Madison. She noted once again how different he seemed from Rhett. Blonde hair and slighter of build although he was of a similar height. For some reason, although she had little interaction to justify it, she felt as though he was of softer demeanor which suited his chosen profession well.

"Okay, Scarlett," he began while pulling the other chair so that it was cornered to her own and sitting so that he was neither in front nor directly beside her. "I know that you're uncomfortable in this cold room so I will try to work as quickly as possible. It will help me greatly if you tell me if there are any concerns other than those of which I've already been informed."

"Um, well, I don't think so," she answered shyly.

"Okay, well let's have you stand up but if you think of anything that perhaps Rhett might not have mentioned or may not know, then please let me know."

He rose, holding out his hand to assist her to a standing position as he spoke.

"I am here to help you through your pregnancy and to ensure you fully recover from your injuries. All of your injuries," he added meaningfully. "I would hazard that I will be the only physician to examine you with full knowledge of your circumstances and I would like us to keep things as such."

She nodded, unable to speak as emotion welled up within, nearly bringing tears to her eyes. She realized, for the first time in years, that she was surrounded by people who not only wanted to help her, but were fully capable of doing so. None of these people were looking to her for help, or turning their eyes from the help that she needed because it was appropriate to do so. And certainly, she feared no harm from them. The sudden security was so strange and overwhelming that it almost scared her. That realization had her blinking against more determined tears. William walked behind her and she was thankful for the timing as a single, resolute drop escaped to trace down her cheek.

"I'm just going to look at the scars on your back. I've been told that they are healed, but I would like to see if there is any evidence of past or lingering infection."

She nodded and jumped slightly as he shifted one strap of her chemise to expose a greater portion of her back. His fingers pressed a few different spots of her back, but she felt no pain at his touch. She fought to quell the nervous energy that churned in her stomach.

"Alright, I don't know who dressed your wounds, but it seems as though they took great care against infection. There's nothing of concern and with time, the scars will likely fade as well."

The reassurance to her vanity, admittedly unimportant at a time such as this, set Scarlett a little more at ease.

"I can see there is still bruising around your ribs. I would just like to test them with a little pressure. Please be sure to tell me the moment it becomes more painful."

She nodded in response, bracing herself for the pain. He walked around and stood in front of her, ducking his head until his eyes met hers. She found a soft concern in their bright blue gaze.

"It's important," he added. "Don't try to stifle your reaction. It will hinder my ability to help you. Okay?"

She nodded again, still unable to find any suitable response other than this simple form of agreement. Yet, despite her silence, she already felt more at ease than she had felt while she was waiting.

William stood behind her once again and placed his hands on each side of her ribcage. With gentle but firm pressure, he slowly squeezed inward. The pressure was uncomfortable but not terribly so. The pressure increased but although it went a little beyond what she would describe as uncomfortable, it still did little more than cause a slight intake of breath. He released the pressure altogether only to almost immediately press back inward, this time more quickly than before. This quicker onslaught caused her to cry out with pain and immediately, he withdrew his hands.

"Ah, as I suspected. The ribs are definitely bruised but I don't suspect any broken bones. Rhett told me that you had been keeping them bound, but unless they start to really trouble you, I would recommend you leave off with the binding."

"Yes, Doctor Meade, my doctor in Atlanta, had told me to keep them bound tightly, but these past days without the binding have not been any more painful than those were."

"That is good to hear. Now, I must admit I will take that bit of information with a grain of salt because I believe you have developed a high degree of pain tolerance. It is important to recognize the signs your body is giving you, especially when you are in the process of healing. Pain is a sign that should be addressed not ignored."

Scarlett nodded her head once again, feeling somewhat like a reprimanded child. William stood in front of her and raised both her arms in succession. She flinched slightly at the movement of her left but didn't feel any sharp pain until it was nearly parallel with the floor. He lowered it to her side and then raised each arm in succession again. This time, lifting them upward and outward from her side. Her left arm couldn't raise nearly half as high as her healthy right arm.

William gently manipulated her shoulder, testing slight movements in varied directions. The movements didn't overly increase the dull pain that had plagued her over the past weeks.

"Okay, are there any other lingering injuries? Perhaps from an incident or time when you wouldn't have told Rhett about what had happened?"

She shook her head but then added: "Well, there were, but I think they healed just fine. This was not the first time that I landed poorly and injured my ribs but they healed after those times, I think."

"Any other areas?" he prodded.

"Umm, well my arm was injured once and there have been quite a few bruises." She paused, searching her memory. "I have suffered from more headaches over the past year but I'm sure the fact that I've hit my head more often is related to that fact."

She brought a hand up to cover her mouth and blushed furiously as she realized what she had said and the almost flippant tone to her voice. William smiled slightly in response to her candor. She instantly relaxed again.

"Yes, I'm sure that would definitely be attributed to your headaches, but have you felt any since you left Atlanta with Rhett?"

"No, no. Not that I recall."

"Okay, that's good but let's keep track of that as well. Now, let's have you over to the cot to finish with our examination."

Ophelia was standing at the head of the small cot that was raised slightly higher than a typical cot that she had seen previously. Scarlett had almost forgotten that the women was still in the room with them, but was grateful for her presence. She stalled at the side of the strange cot, hesitant to move forward with the exam.

"It's alright, Scarlett. For now, I would just like to examine your abdomen. Please lie down."

Scarlett had turned to face William as he offered his assurances but turned back to find Ophelia at her side, a gentle hand on her arm. She used the support offered by the sturdy woman to lie down on the bed. A soft sheet was produced and Ophelia draped it over her. She then handed a stethoscope to William and returned to her position at the head of the bed. He hooked it around his neck but left it dangling along his chest.

"Alright, let's see if there is anything else of note."

He pushed against her stomach, his fingertips applying a gentle pressure, moving methodically across first the upper and then the lower areas of her abdomen. He gave a little more attention to the lower region, but nothing caused her any pain and she found herself relaxing slightly. He pressed downward on her hips and also squeezed them inward with both hands in a similar fashion to his treatment of her ribs. He then placed the stethoscope on her chest and she felt the cool of the metal through the thin sheet. With one hand he held it in place while using the other to adjust it so he could hear her heart.

"Scarlett, let's have you sit up for a moment," he directed. She sat up, once again accepting the assistance offered by the quiet woman at her side. William moved the stethoscope to her back. "Take a breath for me please. As deep as you can without any pain," he added.

She complied and again when he moved the stethoscope to another spot on her back. She found the whole process rather curious, having never had a doctor conduct an examination in such a manner. Although differing from any of her prior experiences, she didn't find it uncomfortable, despite her current state of dress. She was sure that William's calming presence helped to put her at ease and was thankful that the young man was known to James.

"Alright, Scarlett," he said while tucking his stethoscope into a pocket. "I will leave you to get dressed and we will meet in my office with Rhett. Ophelia, please assist Mrs. Butler with her dress and then show her to my office."

Dressed, Scarlett was escorted to another room at the front of the house. Rhett and William were already seated at the desk, but Rhett rose when she arrived and guided her to the chair next to him. She wanted to tell him that she was more than capable of walking across the small room on her own, but found that the warmth of his hand on her arm felt nice.

"Ophelia, would you mind bringing young Master Wade for a short walk through the garden?" William asked of his assistant.

"Yes, doctor," she answered in the slightly clipped tone that Scarlett still found surprising from a Negro woman's mouth. "Come along young sir."

She held out a hand and Wade, with a quick glance to Rhett who offered a quick nod, took her hand and skipped out of the room. Scarlett was surprised that her son hadn't looked to her for approval, but recognized that he had been spending most of his time with Rhett since they had left Atlanta so it followed that he might look to Rhett first instead of her.

"I must admit," William began once the door was closed, "that it is a bit unusual to have a discussion like this in mixed company, but the circumstances are unusual so I guess it follows logically."

"Rhett wants to be fully aware of your situation, Scarlett," William continued. "I agree with his reasoning but if you aren't comfortable or if you feel that you won't be able to speak openly and honestly, then we can continue in private."

Scarlett had initially found herself studying her lap as she was reminded of how far from propriety they were, but looked up to meet William's gaze when he addressed her directly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Rhett move to speak, sure that he was upset with the offer. William held up a silencing hand.

"No," she answered. "This is fine. I know that it is important for Rhett to be informed as well. Besides, he will just ply either one of us with constant questions until he does know everything so why bother discussing things without him."

She heard Rhett's soft chuckle at her side and its deep sound brought a little flutter to her stomach. She pushed the awareness to the back of her mind, vowing to think on her reaction tomorrow. Returning her focus to the present, she said: "What did you find, William?"

Rhett chuckled again. "Ever the pragmatist, my dear," he added. "Direct and to the point as always."

"Well, what would you have me do?" she countered, turning to address him directly. "I was just sitting in a room with the man, dressed only in my chemise. Should we sit here and prattle on about the weather?"

"No, no," he continued, mirth still colouring his tone. "You are correct. We are here for a purpose and we should let the fine doctor get on with his day. William," he continued, turning to face the doctor who looked a little amused by the exchange, "please tell us the details of your examination."

"I believe that Scarlett is healing well from her injuries," William answered without pause. "I see that the bruising along her ribs is fading and she has a reasonable amount of movement before too much pain. There aren't any signs of infection, prior or lingering, in the healed wounds on her back. Her shoulder seems to be coming along nicely as well."

He paused, leaned forward and clasped his hands together and rested them on the desk. "As I said before, the timing of her pregnancy is of concern. For many women, just a pregnancy alone is difficult for their health."

Scarlett's mind wandered to the difficulty Melanie had suffered throughout and after her pregnancy with Beau. She hadn't realized how blessed she had been with the ease of bringing Wade into the world until she had been witness to Melanie's struggle. Suddenly, she longed for the previously dismissed friendship the woman had so persistently given.

"I… I had no troubles with Wade," she said softly.

"Well, that is good to hear," William responded. "But I fear that your health is much diminished from that time. You not only are recovering from a multitude of recent injuries, but you are also very much underweight which I fear is hindering your recovery."

"I have been telling you that you must eat more," Rhett growled from her side.

"I must agree with Rhett on this issue," William continued. "I know you mentioned some nausea and morning sickness. I would recommend some dry toast in the morning before anything else. And, if you are struck later in the day, plain bread should help as well. Or you may try chewing some fresh ginger."

"I have tried the toast, but have not thought to eat ginger. Surely the taste must be strong," she answered.

"It is, but it works for many and it is important that you are able to eat and keep your meals down. From what I have been informed by Rhett, you were malnourished when you married your husband and then you have suffered under his hands. Your body has been healing itself from these more prevalent injuries and such, even if you have been eating slightly more, you haven't put on any weight."

"So that's it," she answered. "I just have to eat more? Rhett's been telling me that for days."

"I have, my dear, although you haven't often listened. I hope you will listen to William instead."

Rhett had eyed Scarlett meaningfully for a moment until she lessened the stubborn tilt of her jaw. A brief flash of satisfaction flashed across his features. His usual blank mask returned but this time she detected a hard edge to the set of his jaw. He turned his attention back to the doctor.

"We have set some things in motion to nullify the marriage of Scarlett to that bastard Kennedy so I would appreciate if this was the last time you refer to him as her husband. I will not tolerate it any further."

Scarlett cringed internally at the anger in his tone and she noticed that William sat up straighter as well, as though he was putting distance between himself and Rhett's anger. She wondered at his statement – that they had set things in motion. They had just discussed their plans yesterday so she wasn't sure that she would necessarily say that 'things were in motion'.

"I apologize, Mr. Butler," William said and Scarlett had noted the formality of his response along with a hardened edge to his tone that she had not heard prior to this moment. "I thought we were to discuss Scarlett's circumstances without pretense. I am not certain I can help her if we do not."

Rhett exhaled and raked a hand through his hair. "Ah hell," he said and slumped slightly in his chair. "Yes, you are correct. I just hate the reminder of that bastard's very existence. Please accept my apology. It appears as though Scarlett is not the only one of us of poor temperament today."

"What? Rhett, I…" Scarlett stammered in response to the unexpected dig at her demeanor. "I am not of poor temperament," she said after a moment, unable to find any other suitable response. She turned and faced the doctor. "If I have offended you, William, I do apologize."

From the corner of her eye, she caught the grin that had widened on Rhett's face and it drew her anger, but she forced it down. William smiled as well although his seemed more genuine and less as though he was humoured by her.

"Scarlett," he answered, "you have not offended me whatsoever so there is no need for apologies. As I have mentioned several times, I am here to help you so please feel at ease and be completely open with me. This is no time for social niceties."

William paused, seeming to give either one of them time to speak, but she couldn't imagine what he expected her to say. After a few moments of awkward silence, a silence that felt more like a few minutes, he shifted in his chair before speaking again.

"Okay, are there any other symptoms you have experienced that should be noted? Anything other than the headaches you mentioned earlier and the fainting before I met you at James' house?"

"Headaches?" Rhett asked.

Scarlett waited for William to answer, but he seemed to completely ignore Rhett's question and continued to look at her, his expression prodding her for an answer.

"Well, I noticed a little blood on my chemise this morning. I had noticed it as well about a week ago when we first arrived in Marietta." She felt her face heat with the admission.

"Scarlett, why didn't…" Rhett began and she could feel his scrutiny on her face but she didn't turn to him, keeping her gaze on William's encouraging visage instead. Rhett's tone had been soft but she could still hear the accusation in his question so she cut him off before he could finish it.

"It happened with Wade too and Mammy had said it was nothing to worry about so I didn't think to mention it until just now. It was just a few drops, nothing more."

"Your Mammy was correct, for the most part. This is often an occurrence in a normal pregnancy, but I think we can all agree that this is not the case for you. Please come and see me if it happens again. Otherwise, let's plan to have you come back next week. I would offer to come to your hotel, but I think this is better for everyone, agreed?"

"Yes, this works well for us," Rhett answered for the both of them.

"Alright. In the meantime, I would like Scarlett to get plenty of rest, while also trying to work in a little bit of activity every day. I would recommend a walk outdoors, in the fresh air, going a little farther each day. This should help you work up your strength and endurance." William paused to catch Scarlett's eye before continuing: "Don't push yourself too hard. Slow and steady will win this race. And, if you tire or feel ill, stop. The last thing we need is for you to faint, causing further injury in your efforts to heal. Understand?"

She nodded in agreement, once again feeling like a chastised child.

"Thank you, William," Rhett answered. "I will make sure that she doesn't try to do too much and that she eats more as well. And, I'm sure Scarlett will do her best to comply, won't you, my dear?"

"Yes, yes, thank you William." She answered softly. Despite the kindness of his words, Scarlett couldn't help but hear the ire in Rhett's tone and knew it was directed at her. She was sure he was disappointed that William had not given her a completely clean bill of health. He would have to suffer with her slowing him down even longer.

"If you will both excuse me," William said as he stood, "I will go and find Ophelia and your son so you may return to the hotel."

William closed the door to his office behind him and Scarlett silently wished that he hadn't. She stared at his desk top all the while feeling Rhett's burning gaze on her heated face.

"Scarlett, why didn't you tell me about the bleeding this morning?"

His voice was even but she could still detect the anger in it. "It was just a few drops…" she began.

"And last week?" He cut her off before she could finish, the tone of his voice rising. "And what is this business about headaches?"

"I haven't had any…"

"I told you when we began this journey that you must be completely honest with me." He turned to face her fully but she continued to stare straight ahead. "Here we are, just two weeks later, and I find out that you have been lying!"

"I didn't lie, Rhett…" she exclaimed, turning to face him directly after his accusation.

"A lie by omission is still a lie, Scarlett." He didn't yell but he was leaning forward, his fists clenched on his knees, his jaw set determinedly. "How can I take care of you if I don't know what you need?"

"Then don't Rhett, just don't! I know you don't want to anyway! Wade and I will find our way without you!"

She stood up quickly and marched to the door, getting to it and reaching for the handle as Rhett reached her side. He grabbed her wrist before she could turn the handle and spun her around to face him.

"And just how exactly would you do that, my dear?" he asked and she felt the anger coming off of him in waves. Instinctively, she took a step back, but found the door against her back before she could get any distance between them. Her heart pounded rapidly beneath her chest and she was sure she would faint. He released her wrist just then, holding his hands up in surrender and took a step backward, increasing the distance between them more effectively.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." His voice was instantly softer and the kindness of his eyes brought tears to hers. "I didn't mean to scare you, Scarlett. I just… I am… I'm just worried about you and I don't like it." He dropped his hands to his sides. "I just want to make everything better. I want you to be better."

In that moment, he looked so defeated and she was surprised by the overwhelming urge to hold him. How could she want to reassure him when he had just drawn so much anger and fear in her just moments before? Then, just seconds later, he straightened slightly and the look of defeat was gone.

"I am truly sorry, Scarlett. I did not mean to cause you any fear. You must know that I would never harm you. I promise you. Please forgive me my anger."

A blank mask had returned to his features and she worked to school her features similarly, saddened by the need.

"Yes, of course, Rhett. I'm sorry too." She sighed, her eyes falling to the floor. "I don't know what came over me to overreact in such a manner. I guess the morning has been more trying than I realized." She brushed unnecessarily at the folds of her skirt and turned back to the door. "Shall we go find Wade so we may return to the hotel? I guess I do need some rest."

Rhett came to her side and she suppressed the urge to step away, taking instead the arm he offered to escort her from the room. As they entered the hallway, she saw William at the other end with Wade in tow. She allowed Rhett to lead her to the foyer and through their good-byes until she was once again seated across from him for the carriage ride back to their suite.

 _Okay, so quite a bit here even though in some ways, not that much happened. This chapter got away from me, in the details and conversations and thoughts and feelings…. I hope it wasn't too long._

 _As to the "examination", I really had a hard time finding any reliable information about what exactly doctor's would do during an exam during this time in the South. So, I decided to go with something similar to what we learn during first aid for secondary examination and the location of injuries. If anyone knows of something more accurate, please feel free to share it. If not, I hope this was somewhat believable during the time frame and circumstances._

 _Thank you for reading. SS_


	20. Chapter Nineteen

_Sorry for the confusion - and hopefully my little editing blunder and subsequent repair has not flooded your email - but the story hasn't been updated. I am working on the next chapter and had jumped on here to reference a part earlier in the story and noticed that one of my corrections hadn't been saved even though I had saved it in the doc file. Confusion and clicking and next thing you know I deleted an entire chapter - in the middle of the story! The only way I could figure out how to fix it was to replace the content for the next chapter and then do the same for the next next chapter and so on. Please accept my apologies for leading anyone to believe it has been updated when we are still where we were earlier this week when I posted last. At least this gave me a reason to delete my whiny, excuse-laden, authors note:)_

 _No harm is intended by the use of these characters and they fully belong to the estate of MM. I am just borrowing them for a while. Please don't sue. SS_

Chapter Nineteen

The rest of their day had passed without incident. Rhett had left Scarlett in the hotel room to rest while he brought Wade to the park for a little activity after their dinner. They had also taken a short walk to the doctor's home to thank him for his time and invite him to join them for supper one evening in the dining room at the hotel. They agreed to meet two nights hence and then Rhett and Wade made their way back to the Planters. The trio shared a quiet supper and although he missed the conversation, Rhett was pleased to see that Scarlett had once again managed to eat a much greater portion of the meal than she had on prior occasions. Their new routine followed and Rhett assisted Wade with his nighttime preparations, returning to find Scarlett paging through a magazine next to the fire.

"A nightcap, my dear," he asked while preparing a glass for himself at the sideboard.

"Some tea would be nice," she answered politely.

He delivered the tea to the table at her side. Instead of joining her on the sofa, he seated himself in the chair across from her. He sipped quietly from his drink, watching her continue to turn the pages of the magazine.

"Scarlett," he said after allowing the silence to stretch for several minutes. "Can you please tell me why you think that I don't want to help you?"

"Oh, Rhett, you know I didn't mean that."

"Now, Scarlett, we agreed to deal plainly with each other. Let's not forget that bargain so quickly. I will tell you that I absolutely do not know that you didn't mean what you said. And, what really perplexes me is why you would say it at all."

He paused a moment, a slight rise to his right eyebrow. She dipped her head slightly but otherwise gave no further response.

"I haven't hesitated or expressed any displeasure since the day we left Atlanta, now have I?" He waited until she shook her head in answer. "So tell me, why would you think that I don't want to help you?"

"Well, do you, Rhett? Do you really? I mean, I had to take care of Suellen and Carreen and I did, but it's because they are my family. I had no choice in the matter. I helped them because I had to but not because I wanted to."

"Scarlett, this is different. You and I both know that I didn't have to help you. In fact, many would say that I should have never become involved in your situation at all. And yet, here I am."

His attempt at leavening the situation failed to even bring the slightest upward movement to the corner of her mouth. She had closed the magazine on her lap when he had first begun speaking and now her hands twisted on top of it. He watched as she fidgeted, her fingers lifting and bending the corners of the pages until he stood up and removed the distraction from her lap. Tossing it lightly on the empty chair, he sat beside her, on her left, covering her restless hands with his own.

"Honey, what's wrong? Why are you so concerned?" A softness filled his tone as he realized that she was truly uncertain of his intentions toward helping her. "Why now? After all these days?"

She continued to focus on her lap which now held both of her hands covered by his right. The milky white tone of her skin stood out in stark contrast to the bronze of his own. He stroked his thumb slowly along her wrist, soothing.

"Is this because I pulled you away from the door? I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to hurt you or scare you. I just reacted too quickly. I had far too much to drink and far too little sleep last night and because of that, my temper had a very short leash this morning. I should have never handled you like that but I promise you, that even though I was in bad spirits, I would have never hurt you. You have to know this."

A tear rolled down her cheek and he moved the hand covering hers so he could brush it away. He shifted and twisted so he faced her more directly, his leg moving on the sofa until it pressed more closely against hers. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, while covering her hands once again, this time with his left. They stayed this way for a long time, although no further tears made an appearance which relieved him ever so slightly.

Finally, Scarlett shifted, also turning slightly sideways on the sofa, mirroring Rhett's posture while also putting some distance between them.

"Why, Rhett?" she asked. "Why did you have too much to drink last night? Why did you have so very little sleep?"

Her voice rose with her questions and he was surprised to hear the anger rise in it as well. With this last question, she pulled her hands out from under his and he backed up in reaction.

"Was it so awful? Holding me and kissing me was so terrible that you had to go and drink yourself drunk to get over it?"

A sob escaped her then and she stood quickly, putting her back to him. He was so surprised at her reaction that he could only sit and watch as she took a shaky breath and then another. She turned then, walking toward him and it wasn't until she was a few feet past him that he realized she was headed to her room. He found himself then and rose from the sofa, quickly making up the distance until he stood in front of her.

"Scarlett, my dear, you are so wrong." Emotion had dropped his voice to a whispered growl.

He had stopped in front of her, but didn't reach for her, conscious of the fear he had inspired just hours earlier. She stared at his chest and he stood still, leaving the space between them, willing her to step closer. Finally, she looked up and met his eyes, questions clear in their watery depths.

He wondered how to explain to her without overwhelming her, scaring her, giving his heart away. He took a step closer instead. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, gently tilting her chin up slightly. Bending, his lips met hers with a gentle pressure. Slowly, he increased the pressure, deepening the kiss. He moved his lips over hers, his tongue moving to trace the seam along her mouth. His hands continued to hold her face gently while his lips moved slowly, his tongue dancing ever-so-slightly in the access she granted. He willed his passion to the background and allowed his love for her to lead his tender kiss. Soon however, his hands moved so that his fingers could tangle in her hair, her body more tightly fitted against his, while his lips continued their slow but tender assault on her mouth.

A whimper escaped from the back of her throat and the sound drew a surge of passion within. He broke the kiss reluctantly, pressed her head against his chest and wrapped his arms around her tightly. He closed his eyes with the feel of her held so tightly against his body. His heart beat rapidly in his chest and he hoped its staccato rhythm in her ear drowned out the raggedness of his breath.

"Ah, Scarlett," his voice gruff with the heat between them. "Don't you see what you do to me? How my body reacts to you?"

He pressed a kiss on the top of her head and then loosened his grip on her slightly. Still keeping one arm wrapped around her waist, he leaned back enough so he could tip her chin up. He dipped his head slightly until his eyes once again met hers.

"My dear, you were quite right when you said that your kisses drove me to drink. To drink so much so I could hope to forget their sweetness. I am a healthy man, Scarlett. A man who could not possibly hope to lie in a bed with your warmth in his arms and not need more from you." Her eyes widened with his blatant admission.

He pressed a kiss against her forehead and then tucked her head against his chest again. Bending his neck until he could whisper in her ear, he continued his explanation. "I have said this before and I will say it again and again if needed. I want you. Never doubt that. But, I want all of you and you are not whole just yet."

 _Sorry for the lack of length in this update and in some ways, it really is just an extension of the previous chapter, but that chapter had already been quite lengthy and this portion was not ready for posting so I decided to separate it. I hope you enjoyed it even if it was short. Thank you for reading. SS._


	21. Chapter Twenty

_Okay, so I KNOW it has been awhile since I've posted but I feel as though this time, I have somewhat of a good reason. Well, not initially – initially it had been writer's block and I realized that I was having a hard time writing that portion because I was bored with it. And, if I was bored with it, it must have been boring. So, I skipped it. And once I skipped it, I realized that this next part was really what I was excited about writing and so I wrote and wrote and then re-wrote the beginning so I could just skip the boring part. Perhaps it might jump a little from the last chapter I posted, but I hope by the end of this chapter, it doesn't seem like I skipped anything and the story continues to flow well for the readers._

 _And for the love of readers everywhere, this chapter unfortunately ends with a slight cliff hanger. I hate cliff hangers… especially if writers don't post consistently (*ahem, yes, I am talking about myself). So, that is my other good reason on why I waited so long to post. I have the next chapter all ready to go other than a quick last read-through for glaring errors (*ahem like heading west when your characters really went east). They may get posted very close together so I will try to make notes at the beginning to make sure you are reading in the right order._

 _Also, on a stylistic note, this part of the story seemed easier to tell by switching POV. I guess I have a hard time with the 3_ _rd_ _person, all-knowing narrative voice and like to write sort of in the 3_ _rd_ _person, but from a specific character's perspective. I find it easier to explore their thoughts when they, like us, don't know the entirety of the situation or the other parties involved. But, I also find it hard to switch from one POV to another without simply having a chapter break. As such, these chapters might be shorter than what I have posted in the past but I hope that I have made up for it by posting them so closely together and the importance of the notes._

 _If the last chapter you remember reading is the one where Rhett and Scarlett actually talked things out like grown-ups and he finished their conversation with a tender but passionate kiss, you are in the right place._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own any of this… actually, I do own a fair bit of this now that I'm this far in… but Rhett, Scarlett, Frank and Wade all belong to someone else. I have just borrowed them for a while and promised I haven't earned a dime while using them. And now, without any further adieu…._

Chapter Twenty

Scarlett and Rhett walked quietly down the street that would lead them back to James' home. He had offered to entertain Wade while they visited with William for an update on Scarlett's recovery. The news had been positive although, as was the case previously, cautiously so. He had been pleased with how well they had followed his advice thus far, including his prescribed regular outings to help Scarlett increase her stamina. They needed to cautiously balance the scales between resting to allow her body to heal and moving to develop the stamina for more travel, if needed, and to prepare for the upcoming demands that pregnancy would bear upon her.

Rhett recalled the days that had passed since their first visit to William's home. After having kissed her for the second time in as many days, he had once again drowned his passions in an endless glass of amber liquid making the next day a test of his patience. In spite of this, they had seemed to get along just fine and he had even managed not to torture himself with yet another taste of her lips. He had slept more easily that night and the following evening the three of them had shared a nice dinner with the doctor who was quickly becoming a friend. Learning a little more of the man's history had reassured Rhett that his instincts had been correct in trusting his friend's recommendation.

The remainder of the week had passed without incident and although they didn't discuss Scarlett's earlier question of his commitment to her, he felt reasonably certain that he had managed to allay her concerns in that area. And, although nothing of concern had occurred during these days, they had been far from tranquil. He had managed to keep his worries to himself, but they gnawed at the edges of his mind throughout the week. When James had sent word of his arrival this morning, Rhett had quickly sent word back that they would meet him for dinner to discuss his trip. He had been tempted to head over to his friend's home immediately, but didn't want to rush their meeting and with Scarlett's appointment with William at eleven, he knew that he would.

"Rhett, do you think we could rest for a few minutes?"

Scarlett's voice interrupted his thoughts and he slowed his steps immediately, realizing that she had already fallen slightly behind him. His own urgent desire to return to James' home and hear what his friend had to say had increased his pace without his having realized it. He was thankful once again for the doctor's solid advice so far. Not only did it put his mind at ease to have a knowledgeable doctor involved in her recovery, but because of William's encouragement, Scarlett was becoming much more forthcoming regarding her physical condition. A week ago, she likely would have caused herself to faint –again - in the effort of trying to keep up with him before speaking up to let him know that she was struggling. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth in spite of himself at this new achievement.

A small bench stood along a perpendicular pathway that lead further into the park and Rhett felt it would be a good place for Scarlett to rest for a while. He tucked her hand safely in the bend of his elbow once again, unsure of when he had released it in the first place. He steered her toward the path that lead to the bench.

"This looks like a lovely spot to enjoy the weather, don't you agree, my dear?"

"Oh, Rhett, why do you bother? There's no one to hear what you are saying."

"I don't know what you are talking about, Scarlett. Are you saying the weather is not fine today? That this bench is not a nice spot to appreciate it."

"Well, no, but… well… you know that's not why we are sitting here. We are sitting here because…. Well because I need a rest. Because of my, well my situation."

"Of course, Scarlett, you are right, but you are also wrong. Just because circumstances dictate that we must do something, that doesn't mean that we cannot make the most of what those circumstances have given us."

He tipped her chin up until her eyes once again met his. "Scarlett, I know you are not well and that is why we are resting, but it doesn't mean that we have to sit here and think about that fact. We used to enjoy each other's company just for the sake of conversation. Now that we don't have a choice, it doesn't mean that we cannot still enjoy our time together. The afternoon is nice. Let's enjoy it before the full heat of summer is upon us."

He dropped his hand from her chin to the hand she held in her lap. Clasping it, he brought her fingers to his lips before returning their joined hands to rest along the seam where their legs met. He turned his focus back to the park and tried to follow his own advice. There had been a moment when their conversation had almost reminded him of the times back on Pittypat's porch – something in the tone of her voice or maybe it was a slight glint in her eyes. But it was there and then gone in a flash with the remembrance of her injuries.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, the sun warming their faces while a gentle breeze kept them from becoming overly warm. Rhett rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand and then released it. He raised his hand to brush a loose tendril away from her cheek.

"Now that James has returned, perhaps we can ask him to help us find you a trustworthy ladies' maid," he suggested. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind a break from my ill-fated attempts at grooming."

"Oh, I don't know, Rhett," she smiled in answer to his grin. "I think you are getting rather adept. Or is this your way of saying that my hair doesn't look nice today."

She had lowered her lashes and looked up at him through their black veil and he couldn't help but to laugh aloud at her trademark southern belle flirtation. She pouted for an instant and then joined his laughter. He rose to his feet and held out a hand to her.

"Come along, my dear. We should get ourselves to James' house before he decides to start dinner without us."

She clasped his hand and allowed him to help her to stand. The pair retraced their steps along the path before leaving the park and continuing to make their way toward James' home. They rounded the corner and walked along the street that would lead them to the street where James lived. As they drew about halfway along the block, Rhett noted a carriage pulling up near the end of the street. Two men exited and pointed, seemingly unsure of where it was that they were headed. As Rhett and Scarlett neared, the men crossed the street, walking just slightly ahead of them. The gentle breeze picked up, blowing the hat off of one of the men who turned to retrieve it. It was in that moment that Rhett recognized the man in front of him, just as that man recognized him.

"Butler! You! You!" Frank Kennedy sputtered as he straightened, hat in hand. "Unhand my wife!"

"Frank!" Scarlett yelled as Rhett stepped in front of her.

"I shall do no such thing," Rhett answered after taking a moment to recover from the surprise of running into Scarlett's bastard husband in the street.

"Officer Stanley," Frank turned to the man beside him, "you need to arrest this man for kidnapping. I knew we needed to find out more about what that Miller knew! Scarlett, come with me."

Frank moved to reach for Scarlett but Rhett once again stepped between them.

"Now, hold on just one minute," Rhett held his hands up. "There is no kidnapping here. A misunderstanding perhaps, but nothing more."

"Misunderstanding?"

Frank's face coloured as he sputtered the word. Rhett felt Scarlett stiffen behind him and he fought against the urge to tackle the man and finish the beating he had begun a week past.

"Sir, this man was certain that we would find his wife with you and now we have," said the police officer standing next to Frank. "Let's all behave like proper Southerners and not make a scene here in the street. Mister Butler, if you could just come with me to the station house and we shall leave Missus Kennedy with her husband."

Officer Stanley held his hand out to Rhett who stepped back, increasing the distance between he and Scarlett and the two men.

"I shall do no such thing," Rhett asserted. "As I said earlier, there has been a great misunderstanding. You see, mister Stanley, Scarlett is my wife. We're coming up on nearly three years at the end of this summer."

"What?" Kennedy sputtered. "That's ridiculous. Scarlett and I were married February of last year."

"Well, that's the misunderstanding," Rhett inserted before Frank could continue. "I had been uhh, well, let's say indisposed, at the time of the supposed Kennedy marriage. My dear wife had been under the impression that I had died so she took her vows under false pretenses."

The officer seemed perplexed. "Is this true?" He looked around Rhett to catch Scarlett's eye. Rhett shifted slightly so she could see the officer more clearly.

"Y-yes," Scarlett answered, hesitantly at first but then her voice gained strength. "I thought Rhett was dead and my family was about to lose their home so I married Frank. I was desperate."

Rhett thought that this may have been the first time that Scarlett had spoken so plainly about the motives behind her quick marriage and Frank did not seem to be absorbing this information very well.

"Can you prove this?" the officer turned his attention back to Rhett.

"Of course. We do not have a copy of our marriage certificate here with us, but I would be happy to send word to my lawyer if you would prefer."

The officer was nodding his agreement when Frank lunged forward, grabbing Scarlett and pulling her to him. "No! No! She is mine!" he yelled.

Rhett jumped forward, struggling to free Scarlett's arm from Frank's viselike grip. Frank wrapped his other arm around Scarlett's body and she thrashed against him. Rhett changed his tactics and instead grabbed the arm wrapped around her body, yanking it down and forcing it behind Frank's back. He growled in protest and suddenly Scarlett was thrown to the ground. Rhett used Frank's arm and drove him face first to the ground as well. Suddenly, Frank rolled and bucked forcefully, throwing Rhett from his back. Rhett's temple connected with the wooden walkway, momentarily dazing him. As his focus returned, he saw Frank gaining his feet and pulling a revolver from the waist of his pants.

"Rhett!"

Scarlett's cry reach his ears, quickly followed by the sharp sound of a gunshot. In an instant, Frank was no longer standing over him as a blue blur passed through his field of vision. In that moment, a searing pain exploded in his thigh. His vision narrowed, a black haze encroaching from the edges and then a second shot sounded as his world faded away.

 _AN: I know, I know. Cliffhanger alert. I couldn't find any other way to write it or to end it. Second chapter coming instead! SS._


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

_As promised, a quick follow up. For those of you who follow stories and just go to the last chapter, proceed cautiously. If you last read something I posted just a few hours ago, then you are in the right place. If it has been weeks since you last read, you are at least one chapter too far. I would strongly you suggest going back to chapter twenty (which shows up as 21 because of my bad habit of posting prologues and not naming my chapters creatively). For those of you in the right place, back to the show. SS._

Chapter Twenty-One

Scarlett's world had frozen in that moment when Frank had turned to retrieve his hat. She instinctively stepped behind Rhett, finding security behind his broad shoulders. Her heart pounded in her chest and the blood rushed through her veins and for a moment, she thought she might drown in the wave of fear that had overcome her. But then Rhett was positioning himself more fully in front of her, and she remembered that she wasn't alone and her pulse slowed ever-so-slightly until finally she could hear what the men were saying. The officer asked a question and somehow she stammered out an answer although in the hours and days that followed, she would never be able to recall what her exact words had been. She couldn't remember the words that were spoken, but she could remember the easing of her fear; the knowledge that the situation was in Rhett's capable hands and not just hers alone.

It was just a brief instant – that feeling of security - and then, then it was gone. Gone with Frank's hand around her wrist, yanking her forcefully, wrapping his arm around her even as she pushed against him. The remembered smell of stale whisky and the sour stench of his cough medicine overwhelmed her senses and she pushed with all her might against his chest. He was all around her and then just as suddenly, he wasn't and she was freed from his grasp.

She had been thrown to the ground, landing roughly, but happily accepted the pain that came with her freedom. She struggled to her feet and it was then that she saw Frank throw Rhett from his back, then that she heard his head connect with the walkway. As she straightened, she saw Frank stand unsteadily over Rhett, gun in hand, and she knew that he wouldn't be able to move in time. In that split second, she reacted, launching herself forward, using all of her weight and strength to throw him to the ground. The gun sounded as they fell.

She landed on him and as his arm slammed to the ground, she heard the clatter of the gun as it skipped away from his grasp. She crawled over him, reaching for the weapon as she felt him doing the same. Her fingers found the cold metal, wrapping around the handle even as she fought to gain purchase on the ground as Frank moved beneath her. She managed to get the gun properly situated in both of her hands just before Frank wrapped a hand around her wrist, pulling the gun closer to him. She tightened her fingers as he tried to pull the weapon from her grip, somehow leveraging his position until he was above her. Straddling her on his knees, he rose up above, yanking determinedly at the gun's handle. She forced her fingers to maintain their deathlike grip on the weapon. Then, almost as if of its own accord, the gun went off. Shock filled Frank's features as red blossomed on his chest and he fell back.

She dropped the gun as if it burned her hands and began frantically moving to free her legs from the weight of his body on them.

"Mama! Mama!" Wade's cries penetrated the haze of her terror and then his arms were wrapped around her. His body shook with the force of his tears.

"Shh," she stammered against his cheek. "It's okay. We're safe."

She struggled until she was sitting fully upright, twisting to look at Rhett. James was at his side, his hands pressing on his thigh. Then she saw it. The red stain on the wooden walkway at his side.

"No, Rhett, no!"

His black pants had hidden the evidence of his wound, but as she focused her eyes, she noted the dampness of the fabric. She crawled on her knees to his side. James was already kneeling at his thigh so Scarlett moved beside him, closer to his head. A trickle of blood traced a crooked line from his temple, disappearing into his hairline. She stroked his forehead and placed a hand on his chest. It rose and fell in a shallow rhythm.

"He's still breathing!"

"Yes, I'm trying to staunch the bleeding," James said through clenched teeth.

"We need William," she answered. Suddenly, she remembered the other man who had been present. Turning to the officer, she ordered: "Go get Doctor Madison!"

Scarlett wondered how he hadn't reacted sooner, being a man with his position of authority. She gave the idea very little more than a passing thought, however, having more pressing matters at hand. The officer didn't move, seemingly rooted to his spot.

"What are you waiting for? Do you not know where his home is? It's just around the corner, past the park."

The man seemed to question her order for another moment, but then turned and ran around the corner toward the doctor's home.

"Scarlett, can you tear some strips of fabric from your dress?"

"Yes, yes," she said while yanking at the hem of her dress, wishing they had thought to use the fabric earlier. "Wade, honey, come and help mama."

The boy wiped his eyes and pulled at the tear that Scarlett had begun for him. She pulled at another seam, rending the fabric across and down in quick, jerking motions. She wadded the cloth and handed it to James before working on another strip. Wade's efforts were progressing more slowly but his tears had abated with the focus of his task and Scarlett was thankful that she could focus on Rhett for the time being. She managed another strip of fabric and this one she handed to James who proceeded to tie it tightly around Rhett's leg.

"Rhett," she said while stroking his forehead, "Help is on its way. Oh, Rhett, please." She felt tears prick at her eyes, but she fought to contain them. Rhett needed her and he needed her to be strong for him. She could do it; she knew she could. She had been strong in the past and she could find that strength once again.

The pounding of footsteps reached her ears and then William was crouching down beside her. James pulled her away, helping her to stand and once she was safely upright, he bent to lift Rhett. William had added to the rudimentary bandage that James had applied and the two men lifted Rhett and began walking the short distance to James' home. Ophelia appeared at her side, seemingly out of nowhere, and placed an arm around her back, supporting her weight as the two women followed.

The men moved quickly, climbing the stairs and setting Rhett down on the bed in a guest room. Scarlett and Ophelia reached the room as James was cutting the fabric from Rhett's pants and William was pulling bottles and implements from his satchel. Ophelia left Scarlett's side and moved to assist the doctor with his preparation.

"I, I can help, too," Scarlett offered from her corner of the room. "I helped nurse the men during the war."

"No, Scarlett," William turned slightly as he answered her and she caught the worry in his eyes. "I need you to wait outside. Ophelia is more than capable of assisting me and I need to focus on Rhett without having to worry about you."

"Me? I, I'm fine. What if you need an extra pair of hands?"

"James?" William ignored Scarlett and turned to his friend instead.

James had just finished his task, placing the scissors on the table where William had hastily assembled the remainder of his implements. He moved to Scarlett's side and gently pulled her from the room, closing the door behind them. She had resisted initially, but found her strength suddenly had deserted her. Her head swam and she gripped the table that sat outside the door.

"Scarlett, please, let's go downstairs."

"No, no. I'm alright. I just need a minute. I want to… stay close… in case they need my help."

She saw the questions in his eyes, questions and concern. She averted her eyes, focusing on the floor instead. Her vision narrowed and she attempted a deep breath but a sharp pain stopped her. Closing her eyes, she gripped the table a little more tightly and focused on controlling the unexpected wave of pain. As the pain eased, she opened her eyes, noting the sudden appearance of a chair before her.

"Sit," James said simply and she complied without argument.

"Mama, is Unc' Rhett goin' to be okay?"

Wade was tugging at Scarlett's skirts and she looked down, noticing its tattered state. The vision of Rhett's prone figure next to a blood soaked walkway rose to the forefront of her mind. Her hand tightened on the arm of the chair to steady herself. The smooth hard lines brought to mind the cold metal of the gun and the sound of a gunshot echoed in her mind.

Wade climbed onto her lap bringing forth new pain, but she ignored it, wrapping her arms around him instead. The warmth of his little body did little to stop the shaking of her own. She squeezed him more tightly and rested her cheek against the top of his head.

 _AN: Yes, yes, I know. Still not fully resolved. But hopefully a little clearer now. I'm so worried about posting, I almost forgot to ask for your thoughts. This is definitely a little different than the other chapters of this story have been. Is it jarringly so? Or does it seem to work based on the events? I would love to know… this is why we do it, right? For advice. SS._


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

_As promised. Not to repeat myself to those who take the time to read these notes, but because I am posting these chapters so closely together, I just want to make sure that everyone is reading them in the proper order. If you've read Rhett's POV and then Scarlett's, you are in the right place. If the last time you read, it was Rhett's POV and it ended in a tender kiss, you are in the wrong place. Go back… a couple of chapters back. If you last read Rhett's POV and it ended with a cliffhanger, you are just one chapter too far._

 _Disclaimer: they are still not mine. Although maybe now I've made our favourite pair suffer enough that MM would give me a little credit_ _. SS._

Chapter Twenty-Two

James looked up as the door opened a little over an hour after he had closed it. He had given up on pacing and had briefly left Scarlett alone with her son to retrieve a chair for himself as well. She had moved little during the entire time they had waited, reacting only to his prior attempts at getting her to a room for herself. Wade had remained quiet in his mother's arms as well which he found surprising for a young boy, but theorized that the seriousness of the situation was as clear to him as it was to the adults. He looked up as William merged from the room, catching William's eye and noting the relief clearly evident on his features. He exhaled a breath he felt he had been holding since the moment he had noticed the gathering on the street in front of his home.

"Scarlett?" William knelt in front of the woman and boy, putting himself directly in front of her line of sight. Her head shifted slightly. "Rhett is doing well. Let's have a look at you now."

"He's awake? I need to see him!" She straightened, loosening her grip on her son and shifted in her chair as though she meant to rise.

William put a steadying hand on her knee. "He is still unconscious and needs to rest. As do you."

"I'm fine. I'm fine. Just let me see him. I promise I won't wake him."

William turned to James, a questioning look on his face. James shook his head in answer. Scarlett's dress was shredded and her hair a mass of tangles. There were blood spatters on her hands and face mingled with smudges of dirt as well. But, these were not the things that detracted most from her appearance, from her well-being. It was the grayish pallor of her skin. The slight hitch that came with her breathing. The trembling that continued long after he had draped a blanket across her shoulders. Rhett would be furious with him for having left her in such a state for so long, but he hadn't been able to force her to leave her sentry post at his door.

"Please," she continued, oblivious to the silent exchange between the men. "I just want to sit with him. I, I need to be there for him."

"Yes, Scarlett, you do. Rhett will need you to be there for him when he wakes up." William latched on to her last sentiment. "But he will need you to be rested and well. Let's get you cleaned up and have a look at you. Ophelia will stay with him while we do."

Scarlett nodded slightly and the men both stood as she did. James lifted Wade from her lap and led them to another room further down the hallway. He yanked on the bellpull and Sally arrived at the room within minutes. He instructed her to bring up some water for washing along with something from her own wardrobe for Scarlett to wear.

"Wade and I are going to find Samuel so he can set you up with something to eat."

"I wanna stay wif' mama," Wade responded, making no move to leave James' arms.

"Don't worry," James said while rubbing the boy's back. "Samuel will bring you right back here as soon as you're done."

James left, finding Samuel in the kitchen and left the boy with him. He quickly returned to the second floor, arriving just ahead of Sally and the wash basin. He found Scarlett and William arguing in the hall.

"No, I will wash up but that's all. I must look a fright and don't want to scare Rhett when he wakes up, but I'm fine."

"Scarlett, you're not breathing properly," William reasoned. "I don't know what happened but you must have reinjured your ribs. Who knows what else you may have done?"

James stepped closer, holding his hands out to calm the pair. He turned to Scarlett. "Please go and let Sally help you clean up."

Surprisingly, she turned and walked rather steadily into the room. Sally followed and closed the door behind them. He turned his focus to William.

"What is the real situation with Rhett? Why won't you let her see him?"

William looked taken aback by his question. "The real situation? Well, of course, it is serious. I don't believe I have indicated otherwise. He has lost a lot of blood, but the bullet didn't seem to do any serious damage to his thigh. The head wound is a little concerning, but seem innocuous thus far. We'll know more once he wakes up. My only real concern is fever or infection, but if we keep his wound clean and well rested he should be fine."

James relaxed slightly. "Then why won't you let her see him?"

"Because she is clearly injured as well."

"Is there really any difference between her sitting in a bed and sitting in a chair next to his bed?" he countered.

"Yes. Yes there is," William answered. "Plenty. Especially once we ascertain the nature of her injuries."

"Well, she's not going to sit in that bed. I was barely able to get her to sit in a chair and I think that was only because she nearly fainted on the spot." James raked a hand through his hair and paced the hallway before returning back to the bedroom door. "You're just going to have to improvise, William. Find a way to treat her in his room. She's too worried about him to consider anything else."

William shoved his hands in his pockets and dropped his head. "Alright," he answered, rolling his head from side to side.

James took in the appearance of his friend for the first time. His hair was mussed and there was blood on his clothes as well. He looked slightly drained by the efforts of the last hour.

"You're sure he's going to be fine?"

"Sure?" William asked. "I don't think that's the right word to use under these circumstances. Confident, maybe? Cautiously so. There is still more to come before I would say that I am sure."

"Of that, I am sure. There's still the matter of the police. I'm quite surprised they haven't already arrived at my door."

"The police?"

James shook off William's question. "A much longer story. You worry about the patients. I will worry about the police." He turned and headed down the hallway toward his own room and a change of clothes.

 _AN: Okay, I admit that when I had first decided to post this in parts, I thought that after 3 chapters, things would largely be resolved. I don't think we can quite say this at this point, but at least we are not with Rhett lying, bleeding on the street. And really, after the first part, we didn't even know everyone who had been shot or even where he had been shot. So, it's kinda resolved, right? As always, would love to know your thoughts. One more in this bulk post and then I will need a few more days. SS._


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

_This is the shortest and stylistically, the most different of all of the chapters in this bulk post, really quite possibly of the entire story. It made sense for me though when I tried to put myself in Scarlett's place and mind. I would love to know your thoughts on this chapter in particular and how it merged with the group post as well as the story as a whole._

 _This is the fourth chapter I've posted today. Rhett's POV, then Scarlett's, then James and now back to Ms. Scarlett again. If the last thing you read ended with Scarlett and Rhett kissing, you have some catching up to do. Go back to Chapter Twenty (numbered #21 while being named twenty) and start from there._

 _Disclaimer: Yep, still not mine. Please don't sue. SS._

Chapter Twenty-Three

Scarlett sat at Rhett's bedside as the day stretched into night. She was exhausted, but she kept the pull of sleep at bay. She held his hand and stroked his forehead, pressing kisses against his temple when he murmured yet his eyes remained closed. When the fever appeared, she maintained her vigil. Fresh cool cloths replaced warmed ones, a never-ending basin of cold water at her side. She was never alone in the room with him, but he was alone in her thoughts, her focus. Hands at her side changed the blood-soaked bandages on his thigh but she wasn't sure whose hands they were – just that they weren't her own. The room brightened and darkened and brightened again. Still his eyes were closed.

The sheets had been pulled down to his waist. Cold clothes and towels covered his chest, his forehead, his arms. When had she removed his shirt? Had she done it or had it been someone else? Her hands felt numb from their constant submersion in the cold, but the cloths she took away were warm until she dunked them again. He moved, he thrashed and sometimes he even cried out in pain. But his eyes remained closed.

Voices spoke around her, perhaps even to her, but she never responded. She stroked his forehead, kissed his temple, held his hand. The bronze of his skin still contrasted slightly with hers when her fingers wrapped around it, but not when they stroked his cheek. She longed for his colour to return as much as longed for him to open his eyes. But it didn't and he didn't and the room darkened and brightened and the voices sounded until the room darkened yet again.

She sat at his side and sometimes she put her head on the bed next to him, but she rarely stood. The room spun when she did. There was food, water, broth, tea. Some of it consumed, some of it untouched. Coming and going with the voices and the basins and the cloths. Hands that pulled at her in efforts to get her to leave. She ignored them all. Ignored them just like the pain that ebbed and surged as the room brightened and darkened. She didn't need to give note to any of it. She just needed him to open his eyes.

The room brightened and the cloths she removed weren't nearly so warm. His body had stilled in the night. His breathing less laboured. She stroked his forehead and it was cool to her touch. She closed her eyes and for the first time in who knows how many days, felt something other than the stark fear of losing him that had gripped her heart. There was movement in the room around her, but she paid it no heed. She brushed her fingers against his cheek, along his forehead. With her free hand, she gripped his and brought it up to her lips. She squeezed tightly and this time, his fingers moved ever-so-slightly in answer.

"Rhett?"

Her voice was hoarse from disuse. A tear slipped from her eye, tracing a path to their joined hands at her lips. A hand settled on her shoulder. She looked up to find William looking down on her with kind eyes.

"He is out of the woods now, but he may not yet be ready to wake. It has been a trying couple of days and his body still needs to rest."

She looked back at Rhett, recognizing that his features looked much more relaxed than they had in days.

"Please. Scarlett, you should rest as well," the doctor implored.

She felt the weariness settle on her shoulders. Exhaustion and pain and relief as she finally felt certain that Rhett was going to be okay. He was going to be okay, but he was still going to need her in the days to come. She would be there for him and as he had been for her. She would need some sleep as well. She looked back up at William as he tugged at her arm and relaxed her grip on Rhett's hand.

His hand tightened on hers in response. Her eyes flew back to his face, finding his own fluttering. She squeezed his hand once again. Finally, his eyes blinked open and they immediately found hers.

"Scarlett," his voice was barely a whisper but was music to her ears. "You're okay."

"Yes, Rhett, I'm okay now that you're awake," she answered, a smile stretched across her features. Tears streamed unbidden down her cheeks.

"Awake?"

"Yes, awake. It's been days. Oh Rhett, I was so worried about you."

She dropped his hand and reached her arm across his chest, nearly throwing herself on him as she did. She squeezed his shoulders tightly and longed for his strong arms around her, but was greeted with a muffled "oomphf" instead. Eventually the sound was followed by the weight of his hand on her neck and she nuzzled against his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against the cool flesh she found there.

"Scarlett, easy," William cautioned from behind her. "You're going to hurt him before he has the chance to get well."

Scarlett recalled herself then, reining in the emotions that had swirled outside of their tight confines. She raised herself up from his chest, feeling the weight of his hand slide down her back. Bracing herself on one arm, she reached out and stroked a lock of hair from his forehead, meeting his eyes once again. "You still look tired," she said, as her fingertips traced down his cheek. She straightened the rest of the way, settling once again on the chair at his side. She dashed the tears from her eyes, but then reached for Rhett's hand once again. His fingers tightened in response as his eyes found hers again, this time searching, seemingly questioning.

"I thought you had been shot."

His voice was growing stronger, but was still not much louder than a whisper.

"Shot? Me? No, Rhett, that was you. You were the one who was shot."

"Yes, I gather that." The slight echo of his Charleston drawl edged into his voice and sang to her heart. "And by the pain in my left leg, I assume that is where I was shot. But I heard two shots, Scarlett. Unless I was shot twice?"

"Oh, that," she slumped slightly in her seat. "You don't have to worry about that. That second bullet didn't catch you or me so let's not talk about that right now." She straightened again. "Oh, but Rhett, you are in pain. William will help you with that, right William? Oh and he should eat something, too. I'll run to the kitchen to get him some broth."

She moved to stand, but William placed a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from doing so. "Now, Scarlett, just wait a minute. I will give Rhett something for his pain as soon as I've examined him now that he's awake. And, I'll just pull on this cord here," he moved to the doorway and did exactly as he explained before continuing; "and Sally will bring him some broth – likely before I am even finished with his exam. And you, I believe, were about to get some sleep."

"Not now, William. I will rest when Rhett does. I can help him with his soup."

She looked back to Rhett who looked slightly confused as he tried to fill in the blanks despite the details that were clearly missing to him. She didn't want him to worry about any of that right now, so she smiled wanly at him to set his mind at ease.

"Rhett, Rhett." William called, snapping his fingers in front of Rhett's face to gain his attention. His eyes flicked briefly away and then back to Scarlett's, before turning his full attention on the doctor who had moved to the opposite side of the bed.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

There had been a crease between his brows, but Scarlett was certain it had been there before William had asked the question. She breathed a sigh of relief when he answered correctly.

"And now?"

"Four."

"And now?"

"I know how to count, William and I can see just fine," Rhett's voice was gaining strength and even had a hint of familiar growl to it. "I don't see the point in this. My leg is aching and my head is pounding although I think that has more to do with whatever you gave me to keep me asleep."

Scarlett stroked her hand along his arm with the mention of his pain.

"I didn't give you anything," William countered with a tone that was surprisingly calm in response. "You were unconscious when I came to you so there was no need. After removing the bullet and stitching you up, we gave you a dose of laudanum so you would sleep through the pain, but that single dose is the only one we gave. The head injury, loss of blood and then the fever kept you unconscious for the days after that. I suspect it's the wooden walkway that is the most to blame for the pain in your head."

"Days? How many days?"

He looked from the doctor to Scarlett, but she looked from him to the doctor as well. She knew she couldn't answer his question no matter how hard she tried.

"Five days," William supplied.

Five days. The knowledge settled on her like the harness of a plough, pushing her more deeply into the chair that held her.

"Five days? Where is Frank?"

Frank. She hadn't given the man a single thought from the moment when she had crawled to Rhett on her knees. Not a conscious thought at least. But his name had been hovering at the edges of her awareness. Held back even more so than the hands and voices and passing of nights and days. No one had spoken to her of him or at least she hadn't heard anyone speak of him. But now she could see him. The shock that replaced the anger in his features. The way his head flung back, the way his back arched, his body suspended briefly above her as his tan shirt gave way to deep red. The smell of gun powder on her hands even after she dropped the revolver.

"I killed him," she said softly, unknowingly dropping her hands from Rhett's arm to her lap. "I don't think I meant to." Then after a moment, even more softly than before: "Maybe I did."

The images flashed again and again. The blood on the walkway. The blood on his shirt. The blood on her hands and her dress. Rhett. Bloody bandages. William's worried eyes. The gun in Frank's hand. Rhett. The room spinning. White sheets. Pale skin. Dark eyes. Rhett. The soft carpet. Black shoes. Worried dark eyes. Rhett.

The blackness that overtook her was a blessing when it finally came.

 _AN: Okay, maybe not quite the shortest, but it feels as if it is. And now, I just need a short breath before I will be back again. Don't worry. Writer's block is gone (although it still lives in the form of a half completed chapter twenty before the real chapter twenty in the single document that resides on my computer. The single largest word document I must say. Quite a behemoth I've created for myself here. Oh well, I can't say that it hasn't been a fun ride so far. Would love some thoughts and feedback on this chapter, the group of posts or the entire story itself. Is it living up to expectations? Has it been worth the read – especially for those of you who have been around for the long haul? I would love to know. SS._


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

_Thank you so much for everyone who took the time to review my little mini-marathon of posting. I am so happy that there are still readers interested after so much time (since I last posted but as well since this story first began). I haven't had the opportunity to respond, but hope to get around to it soon._

 _Here is the latest chapter. Originally, I had intended to post it with the other chapters in the "mini-marathon" but I wasn't satisfied with it so I took a few days to digest it and tweak it. Unfortunately, because it was really meant to be posted with the others, it is also a little on the short side. I hope to make it up when I post the chapter after this one._

 _Also, I don't own these characters nor is any harm intended by this work of fiction. Please don't sue me for enjoying this little hobby_ _. SS._

Chapter Twenty-Four.

Rhett found himself awkwardly seated on a jury-rigged cot that was nearly the same height as the bed that held Scarlett. He had been furious when he found out that his friends had let Scarlett work herself night and day at his side. That they hadn't even taken the time to ascertain the extent of her own injuries, assuming that their severity hadn't increased much since she hadn't been complaining. He likely would have come to blows with them both if he had been able to stand. It was James who had finally been able to reach through his anger so he could see reason.

'Would you have had us strap her to a bed in a room on her own while we continued to make sure that you made it to see the next day?'

He conceded then that he couldn't imagine what he would have done, had he been in their shoes. He wouldn't have ever been in their shoes. The relief and happiness that had lit up in her eyes when he had finally managed to open his had warmed his heart more than he had ever thought possible. Even the knowledge that she had worked so hard to make him well brought him a small measure of happiness in spite of the worry it brought along with it.

When he had finally opened his eyes and saw her sitting next to him, he had been so relieved that she hadn't been shot that he didn't take further note of her appearance. Then she smiled and cried at the same time and nearly threw herself into his bed. She had risen up and caressed his forehead and his rattled brain was sure there had been love shining in her eyes.

But there had been something in the interaction between her and the doctor. A note of concern on his features that seemed almost more prevalent than when speaking to him. His hazy mind had slowly noticed the shocking pallor to her skin, the paleness of her lips, the black smudges beneath her eyes. She was thin. In the five days that he had been unconscious, she had possibly lost more weight than any that she might have gained in the week leading up to their confrontation.

Their confrontation. James had filled in all the blanks for him while William had taken care of Scarlett. She had probably saved his life. Throwing herself on Kennedy so that the bullet had lodged in his thigh instead of something much more vital. James had glanced out the parlour window as the four of them had gathered on the street and recognized exactly who had stood across from Rhett and Scarlett. James had been racing out his front door and up the walk just as the first shot had been fired. He had been running up the street when the second shot sounded and Kennedy had fallen. It had been James' quick reaction that had saved him as well, keeping the life-saving blood in his body where it belonged.

Samuel had taken care of Wade while Scarlett had worked tirelessly with William and Ophelia. James had helped with the boy's care as much as he could despite having been kept fairly occupied with keeping the police at bay. Officer Stanley had arrived at the Miller home on more than one occasion, looking to arrest the newly widowed Kennedy. James had asserted the story that Rhett had run by him the morning before he had left for Atlanta. He had also managed to discreetly contact Rhett's lawyer to let him know that the papers Rhett had requested were now needed much more urgently. A telegram from his lawyer had arrived just that morning and the document they needed to support their story should be arriving in a few weeks' time.

The Butler family had been checked out of the Planter's hotel and their belongings were moved into the guest rooms at James' home. The arrival of the young boy's toys and books had made it much easier for Samuel to keep Wade occupied while Scarlett had worried over Rhett. Even with the distractions, the boy had held Rhett fiercely when finally brought to his room. Rhett had to admit that he had held onto him rather tightly, as well. They had sat together in his bed and he had listened while the boy made up words to a story while paging through a book. Listened despite the throbbing of his leg, the pounding of his head and the churning of his stomach with his worry for Scarlett.

Finally, William had returned to his bedside. Scarlett was asleep – he had dosed her with laudanum so that she would. She had roused from her faint when William had carried her from the room, crying out in pain when she did. Rhett had been able to hear her cries down the hall until they gradually seemed to fade away. He suspected that they hadn't ended but rather, had just lessened in their volume with the diminished capacity of her lungs. The struggle with Kennedy had reinjured her ribs. It had littered her body with countless more bruises as well although he had yet to be given the chance to examine her for himself.

She had lost the baby.

William wasn't certain what exactly had caused the loss. The struggle. Her previous injuries. Her tireless vigil at Rhett's side. Likely all of it. Or perhaps, none of it. Perhaps, from the beginning, the pregnancy just hadn't been meant to be. Rhett took in the man's explanation but still felt the measure of blame fall squarely upon his shoulders. He had promised to protect her. To keep her safe. In the end, he had done none of it. In the end, she had been the one saving him.

She was going to recover, of that William was certain. Whether she would be able to have any future children, he was less so. It mattered little to Rhett whether she could bear him any future heirs. He was saddened more by this loss. The baby may not have been his, but it had been. From the moment they had known of its existence, he had considered it to be his own. The baby had been a challenge in their circumstances but he had imagined that the day it arrived would have been a happy one. Another of Scarlett's children for him to love and care for and he would have loved this baby as much as he did Wade.

He wasn't certain that she knew of her loss yet. She had been in and out of consciousness for hours now, but awareness hadn't seemed yet to fill her eyes. He had been laying at her side longer. The cot, he was sure, was not as comfortable as her bed, but he didn't want to jostle her or cause her any undue pain. It had been a hard-won compromise that the men had agreed to after his threats of crawling to her room were deemed not empty after all. His attempt to actually leave the bed had aided in driving home his point. It had also resulted in another changing of his bandage but the stitches had held and so here he lay. Awkwardly angled on the small bed so his hand could stretch out and hold hers. A small connection when his body ached to hold hers.

The door opened from the opposite side of the room and William's assistant, Ophelia, entered the room. She moved to Scarlett's side of the bed and placed the back of her hand on Scarlett's forehead. She moved it to her cheek. Rhett was certain there was no fever present, feeling the cool dry skin of her arm pressed against his.

"She's going to be just fine," she assured. "But I think you will both sleep more peacefully if you lie beside her."

"No, it's alright. I don't want to cause her any pain."

"Trust me, mister Butler, she will be fine. The feel of your arms around her will give her so much more strength than any jostling or pain would draw."

"If you're certain," he responded.

"She hasn't been resting soundly thus far," she reasoned in reply.

"Ophelia, you are a smart woman. William is lucky to have you."

The woman left and quickly returned with Samuel in tow. Soon, James' butler had easily shifted Scarlett over slightly in her bed. He then moved to Rhett's side but Rhett held up a cautioning hand.

"Hold on, Samuel. I'll not have you carrying me like a child. I'm quite capable of shifting my upper body over. If you could just support my leg and follow as I move."

Rhett braced and then quickly shuffled himself over until he was lying just a few inches away from Scarlett. He exhaled forcefully, silently conceding that the slight shift of location had been more difficult than he had anticipated. He laid back and closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them to find Ophelia's dark eyes staring intently at his face. Glancing around, he noticed that Samuel had already left the room.

"I'm alright," he grunted and then cleared his throat.

"A little laudanum would help you sleep better."

"I'll sleep better without it."

Inwardly, he shuddered at the mention of the strong drug. He had been stabbed during a bar fight when he had first been ejected from his father's house. The barmaid had looked after him and had bandaged the wound reasonably well, but the pain had seemed unbearable at the time. Unbearable that is, until she had secured some laudanum to chase it away. The terrors that had replaced the pain while under the influence of that powerful medication had had him wishing for the pain's swift return. He had avoided the drug ever since.

"A little whisky to dull the edge will be more than sufficient. I don't take well to morphine," he explained further and then added: "I really would prefer if Scarlett could avoid too much of it as well."

"I will let Doctor Madison know your wishes when he returns in the morning. I know that for now, his priority is for missus Butler to rest as comfortably as she can so her body may heal."

"And yet, here I am," Rhett grinned.

"Or rather, _hence,_ there you are," she countered and Rhett felt his grin grow a little wider. "I'll be right back with a tot of whisky for you."

She left and Rhett turned his focus to the sleeping occupant of the bed he now shared. He slid his arm through the slight arch of her neck against the pillow. He wrapped the other arm across her shoulders and moved her slowly until she was close enough that he could hold her without applying too much pressure.

How quickly Ophelia had returned with his promised drink, he would never know. He had fallen asleep within minutes of having Scarlett safely ensconced in his arms.

 _AN: Thank you for taking the time to lead this latest addition to our story. Thoughts, advice, wishes and criticisms are all welcomed forms of feedback. SS._


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

_It's unbelievable how much time has passed since my last update. I apologize for being away for so long but sometimes, life and fingers just don't seem to want to cooperate with churning out fanfic._

 _As always, most of these characters and situation belong to MM and her estate with a few unique circumstances that I can claim. Please don't sue as no harm or infringement are intended. SS._

Chapter Twenty-Five

The road to recovery for Scarlett and Rhett followed very different paths. Rhett, of course, had seemingly started his journey from a far deeper valley having been so dangerously ill from his initial injury. Once he awakened, it seemed that he was near to reaching the peak of the mountain, ready to clear the summit and travel quickly along a downhill path to recovery. The biggest challenge seemed to be his bedridden state. He was a man of motion, action, capable of managing all of life's situations. It was grating on his nerves to have to rely on others when he was accustomed to being the man that everyone else relied upon. Within a week, he was easily lowering himself from the bed to a chair for the simple want of a change of position. By the end of the second week, he was cautiously making small trips around the second floor using a combination of wall and chair hand supports with a walking cane and seeming to progress fairly well.

Scarlett, on the other hand, seemed to begin her journey up the mountain or at least out of the valley where Rhett had begun. But over time, it was clear that her dogged determination and increased ability to tolerate pain had hidden how far her condition had deteriorated. She did not slip backward into the valley, but her progress up the mountain seemed to be measured in inches rather than miles. She was weak, sleeping through most of the day and all of the night. She ate, but only because Rhett urged her to do so and seemed to gain little enjoyment from any of her meals. Despite the sleep and the meals, the dark smudges persisted beneath her eyes and her stamina ran little past ten minute bursts of conversation.

Rhett was concerned and once he was able to regularly leave the room that he shared with Scarlett, he voiced his concerns to William.

"Are you certain there aren't any other injuries aside from her ribs?"

"I can never be fully certain without involving a surgeon, but based on her reaction to my external exams, I feel very confident that physically, her rib injury is our only concern," William answered.

"Physically?"

"Yes. There are quite a few studies indicating that a patient's mental state can have an impact on their physical well-being. I fear that Scarlett is not dealing well with the loss of her baby nor the manner in which her real marriage has ended. It might be expected for the average woman, but Scarlett is not average based on what I've been told of her history."

Rhett leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers below his chin. They were seated on the second floor balcony and a gentle breeze floated in the morning air, easing the heat promised by the late June sunshine.

"Of the two of us, I was the more receptive to the fact that she was going to have another child. But, she does love Wade so. I guess it is understandable that she would feel the loss of another child. I refuse to accept that she would have any misgivings about Kennedy's death. After everything he put her through, how could she?"

"No, I don't think she is sad that he died, but maybe that's the problem," William agreed. He took a moment to drink from the cup of coffee that sat on the table at his side. "No one but Scarlett knows what happened during her struggle with Kennedy. Did he cause her to pull the trigger? Did the gun just happen to fire? Or, did she pull the trigger deliberately? The answer to these questions may provide some insight, but the reality is we may never know. Maybe, it is just enough to know that somehow, someway, Scarlett's actions resulted in her husband's death and if she doesn't feel sad about that then we may very well know the source of her melancholy."

Rhett didn't warm to the theory. He didn't like the idea that Scarlett would have any negative feelings toward the fact that her former husband was now dead. He, himself, would have jumped for joy had he been able. Although, admittedly, his only regret being that he hadn't been the one to pull the trigger in the end.

"What should I do?" Rhett finally asked.

William looked up at the question and found concern etched in Rhett's features. "I wish I could tell you for certain. The research I've read is new and mostly focused on identifying the relationship between mental and physical health. A good start might be to talk to her about it, but I'm purely speculating here. I think we should get her outside for little stretches of time as well. She's been in the same room for two weeks now. That certainly can't be helping the situation."

Rhett digested the doctor's theories and recommendations. What could he say to Scarlett? He had urged her to deal plainly with him from the moment they had begun this journey. Could he do the same? Could he ask her if she had intentionally pulled the trigger? He didn't care if she did, but he did care if she regretted doing it. Could he admit that to her if she confessed to any sort of regret? He hoped he would never know the answer to this last question.

"I am pleased that there hasn't been any sign of infection in your injury. It appears that the fever did its job," William said, drawing Rhett from his thoughts.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't know about that," Rhett answered wryly. "I will be happy when I can get around more easily."

"Just be careful and don't push yourself too much. You may end up losing much of the progress you have made thus far."

Rhett nodded his head in recognition of the doctor's recommendation. He was about to thank the doctor for his time when Samuel appeared at the veranda door.

"Suh, Mista' James sent me t' come an' git ya. Heez in da office with Mista' Stanley an' he needs ya t' join them. I'z here t' hep ya down the stay'ars."

Rhett sat up straighter with Samuel's announcement of Officer Stanley's visit. It wasn't the first time since he had wakened that the officer had dropped by the Miller residence, but this was the first time that James had wanted him to join in the conversation. The officer appeared to be annoyingly persistent.

"Well, it looks as though the timing of my visit is rather fortuitous," William said. "I will help you with the stairs and perhaps, I can meet with the officer as well to assure him that Scarlett is not well enough to speak to him."

"I will appreciate your having words with the police, but I think I can manage the stairs with just one person ready to assist me," Rhett replied, indicating Samuel standing in the doorway. "Perhaps, you can walk in front of me so if I fall, I won't have quite as far to go."

William grinned in response to the sarcasm in Rhett's tone. The men both rose from their respective seats and using the cane, Rhett made his way limping down the hallway. He allowed Samuel to walk at his side, but stubbornly, Rhett managed the stairs with just the banister and his cane.

They arrived at James' office and Rhett recalled the last time he had visited the room, noting that the doctor had been present that time as well. James, and the police officer who had been repeatedly visiting the Miller home, stood as he and William entered. The man was non-descript being of average height and build with dark blonde hair that blended in with the tone of his skin. Rhett had barely noted any of this during his first encounter with the man, but had assumed that the man's less than remarkable appearance went along with a less than remarkable character. His persistence over the past two weeks indicated that perhaps, Rhett had underestimated the man.

"Officer Stanley," Rhett held out his hand in manner of greeting. "Despite this being the third time I've been in your company, I don't believe we have been properly introduced. Rhett Butler."

"Brent Stanley," the man answered while shaking the offered hand.

Rhett limped over to a chair at the desk while William introduced himself as well. James seated himself back behind his desk leaving the chair next to Rhett open and the officer took the available chair leaving William to choose the sofa or remain standing. He sat on the sofa, but leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Mister Stanley," William began, "I know that you have only heard my concerns second-hand, but I must reiterate that Missus Butler is certainly not well enough to speak to you and it may be quite some time before she is."

"Doctor Madison, I know you are well-respected in this town," Stanley answered, "and I mean no disrespect by this, but I do question your assertion that Missus Butler's health is so poor that she cannot meet with me for just a few minutes. I was present for the altercation which was rather minor and as such, I cannot say why she would still be indisposed."

The officer leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, seemingly satisfied with his declaration. William stood quickly, his indignation clear.

"Sir, I have not called into question the decisions you have made. I have not walked into the police station and questioned how you could have led Kennedy to a confrontation, brandishing a gun and nearly killing Mister Butler. I have not…"

Stanley moved to stand but Rhett held out a cautioning hand.

"William, William," he interjected calmly. Although he continued to address the doctor, he slowly turned so he was meeting the officer's gaze. "I do not believe Officer Stanley was in any way questioning your skill as a doctor. He, of course, does not benefit from your knowledge of my wife's physical condition at the time of… how did you say it… the 'altercation'?"

The officer shifted slightly in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with the seeming turn of events.

"Mister Stanley, please allow me to speak plainly as Doctor Madison is unable to do so. My wife has been under his care while we have been in Augusta. You see, she was injured in a carriage accident several weeks ago and Doctor Madison has been overseeing her recovery which was complicated as she is… uhh, well, she was… with child."

The man shifted again, properly uncomfortable with Rhett's disclosure of such personal information. Rhett continued to gaze directly at the man with the intent to increase the officer's level of discomfort. He was counting on the man's southern gentility to give them a reprieve from his repeated visits, if not an end to them altogether.

Finally, Rhett released the man from his gaze, glancing back to William as he spoke. "Unfortunately, our _minor_ altercation," he paused, allowing his emphasis on the word 'minor' to resonate before continuing: "aggravated my wife's existing injuries and cost us our child."

The man unfolded his arms and then refolded them again, seeming unable to decide how he should sit. Rhett let a small glimmer of the worry and pain he felt reach his eyes as he once again turned his focus to the officer.

"So, you see, this is why she is indisposed and unable to meet with you to answer your questions. Do you have any new questions for me or would this be the end of your visit?"

Officer Stanley rose, shifting slightly on his feet and ran a hair through his sand coloured hair and then clasped them behind his back. He turned to face William who had seated himself at some point during Rhett's disclosure.

"Doctor Madison, if you would kindly send word as soon as you feel that Missus Butler is well enough to answer a few questions, I would appreciate it."

"Of course," William answered with a nod.

"Thank you," Stanley replied courteously. He then turned back to Rhett. "Mister Butler, thank you for speaking plainly. It is difficult at times to ascertain the truth in a situation and it is made more so when not all the facts are shared. I appreciate your candor and wish your wife a speedy recovery." Finally, the man turned to the desk. "Mister Miller, thank you once again for your time and hospitality. I believe I know the way well enough to show myself out."

James tilted his head in acknowledgement before adding: "Samuel is likely not far from the door and he will show you to your hat and coat. Till the next time."

The door closed behind the officer and James blew out a breath forcefully. "I hope this means I get a few days peace without any meetings with that man. What made you decide to tell him about the baby?"

"The truth shall set you free. Isn't that how the saying goes?"

"I wouldn't say that was necessarily the truth," James countered with a wry grin.

"Ah, perhaps. But perhaps there was just enough truth to do the trick," Rhett answered, a slight rise to his eyebrow. "It seems to have been enough to buy us a bit of a reprieve."

"Yes, it appears for the time being that it has." James stood and poured the men each a glass of whiskey, passing them around before returning to his desk.

Scarlett had spent the better part of the previous day alone in the room she had come to share with Rhett and had awoken alone again this morning. She hadn't spent the night alone however. She may not have heard him climb into bed nor leave in the morning hours, but his reassuring warmth had been there when her dreams chased her from sleep. His eyes hadn't opened, but his arms had wrapped around her, pillowing her head against his strong chest and lulling her back to sleep.

She searched her memory but couldn't remember what day of the week it was. She was aware of the passage of time and yet in some ways, she was not. The light would brighten and fade in the single window in her room; people and meals would come and go but she just couldn't seem to find the energy or desire to mark their passing. She slept and slept and yet still felt tired.

Her waking hours were few and far between, but when she was awake her thoughts swirled in her mind. Thoughts of the baby she lost and the man that she killed. Thoughts of the son she had but didn't have enough energy for and thoughts of her family at Tara and how she was somehow letting them down as well. Thinking of her circumstances offered little in the way of improving them and this reality drained her energy even further.

Rhett didn't complain. He often helped her with her meals, but didn't push her to eat more so long as she ate something. He didn't ask her to try to walk around or if she was ready to travel. He was clearly getting better and at a pace several times quicker than she but there were no words from Rhett to indicate that he might be disappointed in her limited progress or lack thereof. He spent time with her despite his increased mobility, often reading in the bed they shared or taking care of his correspondence at the small table in the room. Somehow, however, this made her feel worse instead of better.

An uneven thumping sounded in the hallway outside her door, drawing her out of her inner musings. Rhett opened the door shortly after the sounds and seated himself on the armchair at her bedside.

"My dear, I have Sally setting up some tea for us on the balcony. It is a beautiful day and Samuel will be here shortly to help you so we may both enjoy it."

"Oh, Rhett, I don't know…"

"Scarlett, I really think you could use some fresh air. I spoke with William about it yesterday and he did not think it would be too trying for you."

"I… I guess so, but I really don't think it's necessary. If you want to sit outside, I am fine in here on my own."

"Well, I am not fine leaving you in here alone so it's settled."

As he completed his declaration, a soft knock sounded on the door. Rhett rose and limped over to allow Samuel his entrance. Sally was standing in the hallway, a drape of grey fabric over her arm. Rhett exited the room and waited while Sally helped her into her wrapper. The lady's maid had been a frequent visitor to her room and Scarlett appreciated her quiet competency. Sally would occasionally hum as she worked, but her low voice was soothing in comparison to Prissy's high-pitched tones.

Lean and taller than Scarlett, Sally easily supported her slight weight while deftly assisting her into the soft linen and helping her to the door. Here Rhett waited with Samuel, another seeming fixture in her daily life. His youth had given him a strength not normally called upon in his regular duties as the Miller butler. His ready smile seeming to be an indication that he didn't mind the addition to his responsibilities. Rhett shifted his cane, turned and lead the way to a large door at the end of hallway while Samuel, much to her chagrin, hoisted her into his arms and carried her along the short distance to the second floor terrace.

Rhett had settled himself into a chair, propping his injured leg onto a wooden footstool with a slight grimace. Her side throbbed with a dull ache, but she did have to admit that it was no more painful than when she had been lying in bed. A slight breeze blew across the balcony and she closed her eyes, allowing the sunshine to warm her face. The pair sat in companionable silence for several minutes.

"How is your leg, today?" Scarlett asked, interrupting the quiet. "It seems to be bothering you a little more than usual."

"It is fine. I pushed myself a little more than usual yesterday is all."

"Oh, Rhett, you musn't overdo it. You need to take your time to heal properly. What if you get another infection?"

"Don't worry, Scarlett," Rhett reassured. "I didn't intend to push myself so much, but Officer Stanley came by once again and we didn't want him coming up here so I met with him in James' office. We have a little bit more time but he will be back again soon. He wants to speak to you."

"Oh," Scarlett replied quietly, looking down at her lap. She closed her eyes briefly and in her mind, she could see the blood spreading in crimson blooms across Frank's chest. She opened her eyes again to find the sunshine.

"My dear, I don't know exactly what happened that day in the street and frankly, I don't give a damn," Rhett said, ire colouring his words. He took a breath and continued in a softer tone. "Whether you pulled the trigger or he pulled the trigger or if the gun just accidentally went off – it doesn't really matter. The end result is the same. He is gone and you are finally, completely free from him."

Scarlett met Rhett's eyes as he completed this last statement. Free. No more pain. No more fear. No more hiding or worrying.

"Scarlett, I don't know if you feel bad about Frank's death or maybe you don't and you feel guilty because of that. You shouldn't. He deserved to die. It's his own fault that he did die – coming after us like he did. If anything, his death was merciful. He didn't suffer like he made you suffer. I just want to make sure that you don't let him reach out from the grave and make you suffer any more."

"I shot him," she said quietly. "It wasn't an accident, but I didn't think about it. I just did it. I just reacted. I knew I had to shoot him before he could shoot me… or you again."

"I'm glad you did. I only wish it had been me to shoot him," Rhett answered. "I have no qualms about lying to the police and it would save you this worry. Please, Scarlett, you can't set your conscience at ease when the officer returns."

"This isn't the first time that I've murdered a man," she replied softly, her thoughts dredging up a blood streaked path along the floors of Tara. She raised her eyes and read the unspoken question in Rhett's gaze. "A Yankee soldier at Tara. He was going to rob us… maybe worse. It was just me and Melly in the house. I shot him before he could hurt us and we buried him under the bushes in the back before anyone found out."

He reached over and grasped her hand. "It's best that you did. I'm sure you were right about his intentions. I'm sorry that you had to fend for yourself for so long."

Scarlett searched his face and found only kindness in his eyes. She thought about the weeks that they had been together, some days less clear than others, and the overwhelming sense of security she felt when he was with her. She thought about the fear she had felt when he had been shot, the terror that had flooded her when she had grappled with Frank over the gun, the sense of relief when he had finally collapsed. She thought about the comfort Rhett had offered and the warmth of his embrace. She thought about Wade and her family at Tara and what might happen to them if she were gone. She thought about all that Frank had taken from her in the short time they had been married.

Rhett interrupted her thoughts: "It's been a rough road these past few years, but I promise you the next will be better. We will deal with this last obstacle and get you well and then you will see."

He leaned closer, raising her hand to his lips and kissed her wrist just below where their hands were joined. The gesture felt strangely intimate. He returned her hand to her lap, withdrawing his, and she immediately missed his warmth. She turned her focus to the grounds below and once again closed her eyes to let the sunshine warm her face.

The gentle sound of children's laughter trickled up from the grass below. She recognized the sound of Wade's voice, but it was intermingled with the unmistakable sound of another child's as well. She opened her eyes and soon, he raced into view, carrying a butterfly net held high and followed by a negro boy slightly taller than he.

"Who is that boy with Wade?" she asked.

"That's Ophelia's son, Baldwin. He is the same age as Wade so she has been bringing him here for the day to keep Wade company."

"They seem to get along well," she observed, watching as the boys frolicked amongst the trees and bushes that dotted James' property.

"They do," Rhett commented. "It has been very helpful with keeping Wade occupied for the day. Apparently, there is a sort of school that Baldwin would normally attend during the mornings. A young, free negro woman is teaching a small group of children their numbers and letters since they have no other means to learn them."

"I've never heard of such a thing for black children before."

"No, I haven't either. Ophelia seemed very happy to have the option for her son since she wanted to make sure he could learn as she had. Her owners had moved her and her family to England when she was very young and soon realized that slaves were not acceptable in that world. She was raised and educated the same as all other working class people over there."

"How did she come to work for William?" Scarlett asked, intrigued about the woman who clearly had led a life much different than what she would have expected.

"William had met her when he was in medical school at one of the hospitals up north. He recognized that she was much more skilled than most of the nurses and more knowledgeable as well and thought she would be an asset to his practise."

"She didn't seem to do much when I met with him," Scarlett commented.

"No, she probably didn't need to but from what I've been told, she was instrumental in my recovery. Her knowledge of herbs and tinctures helped stop the spread of infection before it became out of control."

Scarlett chewed on her lip, trying to remember those days when Rhett fought against the fever. All she could recall was the desperation and fear, the determination to fight through her own pain, willing his away.

"I'm not surprised you don't recall," he said interrupting her attempts at recollection. "I was told that you were rather focused on my well-being – to the detriment of your own, I might add."

He reached over and caressed her cheek, tracing the backs of his fingers down her cheek and along her jawbone. His thumb brushed her lips and she felt her eyes drawn up to meet his own. Concern etched in the slight creases found at their corners. She thought about how she must look to his eyes. She felt tired, worn out and was sure she must look at least as bad as she felt. His concern clear evidence that her assumptions about her appearance were correct. The sunshine likely bringing her faults more clearly to light.

"Rhett, perhaps I should go back in and lie down."

"So soon?" he asked, the concern in his gaze increasing. "Are you in pain?"

"No, no, it's just…" she searched her mind for the real reason why she wanted to hide away. Maybe it was just that she wanted to hide away.

"Please, Scarlett, I promise you, the air will be good for you. Let's just relax here and watch the boys play. Just until suppertime and then you can return to our room."

She settled back in her chair, acquiescing to his wishes. She let the breeze lift the strands of hair from her forehead and the sound of the children playing fill her ears. After much time passed, and for the first time in many days, she felt an inkling of the person she used to be settle in her bones. For the first time in many days, she remembered who she was – the person who had fought to keep her family safe while war waged around them; who had brought them back from the brink of starvation; who had sacrificed body and soul to keep a roof over their heads. No, she wasn't going to let the death of Frank Kennedy be her undoing. She wasn't going to hide in a dark room any longer. The beautiful sound of her son's laughter pushed through the last remnants of darkness and reminded her why she had to get out of her bed. The quiet strength of the man seated at her side a reminder that she no longer had to face her challenges alone.

 _AN: Thank you for reading. Originally, I had planned to separate this into two chapters because of the change in perspective. Each chapter seemed a little short though, especially after such a long hiatus. Again, I apologize for being away for so long but not only was RL pretty hectic these past couple of weeks, but it was tough writing this chapter. It was hard to try to think of a depressed Scarlett – it seemed slightly realistic for the circumstances I created for her but very much out of character and hard for me to delve into, not being someone who is prone to depression at all. I hope that this latest foray seemed realistic for both of them. Thank you again for reading and I would love for any feedback after being away for so long. SS._


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

_Once again, an unbelievable amount of time has passed since my last update and especially since I actually have been working on this story with what I felt was some sort of productivity. Obviously, I was not as productive as I had thought. For that, I do sincerely apologize._

 _I did find this a little more difficult to write than the previous chapters… I blame a new obsession with Outlander for my having lost Rhett and Scarlett's voices in my head. Hopefully, I was able to keep true to their tone._

 _No harm or infringement is intended by this work of fiction. Please don't sue. SS_

Chapter Twenty-Six

To ensure Scarlett's safety, Rhett chose to continue with his original plan. Having already obtained proof of their supposed marriage, it made the most sense to him and he explained the same to Scarlett, securing her agreement. After a few days of getting her out of her sickroom on a regular basis, he felt certain enough of her mental state to grant audience to the dogged Officer Stanley. During the meeting, Scarlett had maintained that although her memory of the struggle was slightly hazy, she was certain that either Kennedy had inadvertently shot himself or the gun had gone off on its own as she had never managed a proper hold of the weapon.

Rhett grinned slightly as he recalled the slight simper she had affected as she had declared _'why I don't even know how to work a gun. I just wanted to take it away from him. I never meant to use it.'_ For once, he was proud of her ability to draw on her southern belle upbringing whenever she chose.

The officer, having no one pushing him to do otherwise, seemed happy to finally close the case and move on to the more simple matters characteristic of the quiet town.

Scarlett's health continued to improve, her appetite returning followed shortly by her strength. Soon, she was slowing her steps to match Rhett's as his muscles failed to keep pace with her newly vigorous recovery. The colour finally returned to her cheeks and the seemingly ever-present smudges beneath her eyes had finally started to fade. And, on the rare occasion, her smile managed to light up the whole of her face and Rhett felt a little flutter whenever the familiar sparkle appeared in her eyes.

He had spoken to Ophelia and convinced her to ask Miss Lucy if Wade could join Baldwin for his morning lessons. Reluctantly, the woman agreed although Rhett was certain that his gift of new books and writing supplies for each of the seven other students had helped sway her in this matter. With this new routine established, despite being guests in James' home, Augusta began to feel a little more comfortable for the three of them.

Still, something felt a little off for Rhett. Once Scarlett's health had begun its rapid improvement, the couple moved out of the sickroom and back into the guest room where Rhett had originally been treated. He didn't recall his time in there and neither did Scarlett, so they both admitted that it felt a little more like a proper bedroom than the room where she had spent so many days convalescing. He slept with her every night, holding her in his arms, kissing her forehead, entwining their fingers together. Yet, for some reason, they were stalled at this stage of their relationship. He just couldn't seem to bridge the gap to the next level of intimacy. Physically, he knew he was capable, his thigh injury just a niggling annoyance, but there was something inside him that was holding him back.

He pondered these thoughts as he sat with her in the study. James had chosen to spend the evening at a card game at the local saloon and had invited Rhett to join him, but the draw of the game didn't seem as appealing as a quiet night, reading at home. He looked up from the latest Dickens' creation to find Scarlett's creased brow as she focused on her own novel, an older Jane Austen novel she had found in James' library.

He sipped on his brandy, openly appraising her appearance, slightly surprised that she couldn't feel his gaze on her. Despite the shadows from the lamplight, he knew that the smudges had recently disappeared from her visage; that her complexion was now returned to the lily white shade from when they had first met. Her cheekbones were still slightly more prominent than before, but her collarbones were less so and he knew that Sally had let out a selection of her dresses so she could continue to wear them without stays. It was remarkable how much her outward appearance had improved when just over a month had passed since Kennedy's demise. He rose from his chair to refill his glass, limping slightly as he crossed the room, the Georgia summer humidity drawing an ache in his leg.

"May I replenish your wine, my pet?" he asked before noticing that her glass was still more than half full.

"No thank you," she answered. "And, don't call me that," she added with a frown. "You know I don't like it."

He chuckled in response. "What would you have me call you?"

"Well, Scarlett, would make the most sense since it is my name," she countered.

"That's not very original," he replied with a grin. "What if we harken back to your French roots, ma cherie? Mon chou?"

"Chou? I am not a cabbage," she laughed. "And, I would prefer it if you stuck with English names. 'My dear' is perfectly acceptable," she offered and he caught the sparkle in her eyes from across the room.

"Honey? My sweet?" he offered.

She nodded in acceptance. He joined her on the sofa, abandoning his book and chair.

"Darling? My love? The heart of my heart?"

She giggled and nodded, adding: "Don't you think that last is a little over the top?"

"Not at all." He paused a moment before continuing: "How about I simply call you my wife?"

She quieted then and he thought she must have read something in his expression. As in the time when he had asked her to come away with him, he had given no forethought to his words before he spoke. But now, having said them aloud, he knew this was what he needed. He needed Scarlett to truly be his wife. To speak aloud his commitment to her. To make his promises to her in front of God and man.

"Don't be silly, Rhett," Scarlett answered softly, seemingly searching for the lightness of the mood from just moments earlier. "Would you have me call you 'husband'?"

"I would," he answered honestly. "Husband, darling, my love."

He took her hand in both of his and waited for her to meet his searching gaze. He read the nervous questioning in her depths and knew that she knew that they were no longer teasing.

"Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy, now that you are free to do so, and free to also decline, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

He held her gaze, allowing his often hidden emotions to shine through. Her eyes swam with emotion and he could see the evidence of the questions she had, the surprise at his sudden, repeat proposal. He knew that she read the import of this moment in his dark eyes.

"Rhett," she began, her voice catching with emotion. She brought her free hand to the top of their joined hands on her knee and squeezed his hand slightly. "I would love to."

She smiled as the first tears slipped past her lashes. He felt his face break out in an answering grin. Then, he raised a hand to brush the tears from her cheeks and brought the other up to cup her cheek. Lowering his head, he tasted the saltiness of her lips, deepening the kiss almost instantly, needing more and more of her. Their tongues danced as his fingers slid back, tangling in her silky tresses. A moan escaped from the back of her throat, mingling with a matching groan from him. He ended the kiss, straightening, breathless.

Scarlett's flushed face greeted him, her chest heaving slightly with her own breathlessness. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, drawing her into another kiss. She met him readily, this time her hands reaching up to his shoulders. He stroked her back, her hips, her breasts through the thin layer of her dress. He vowed to never let her wear a corset again. She dragged her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and he released her lips, moving his attentions to her ear and neck. She moaned and he felt the sound of it through him, pulling at his groin. He returned to her lips while his hands massaged her breasts, feeling their hardened peaks through the soft cotton.

Dredging up a strength from within, he pulled himself away from her. Ignoring the throbbing in his groin, he rose from the sofa, providing even more separation between them. He glanced over long enough to take in her dishevelled appearance, the rapid rise and fall of her flushed chest, further exposed by the buttons he had released at her bodice. He quickly turned away but not before he read the confusion on her features.

' _Trust me, my love, I'm confused, too.'_

Turning his back to her, he raked his fingers through his hair and then discreetly adjusted himself so he could turn to face her with a little dignity. Retrieving his glass, he returned to the chair he had vacated earlier. Taking a long drink, he placed the glass on the table at his side and rested his elbows on his knees. He finally risked another glance in her direction and noticed that she had mostly righted her appearance.

"Scarlett, my dear, you are going to be the death of me."

She looked over at him and he could read the questions that must be swirling in her mind. She had met his passion freely and readily and he yearned to explore how much more she had to offer. Inwardly, he cursed his newly discovered antiquated nobility.

"My love, I'm sorry to have gotten so carried away," he began in an effort to explain his actions, or lack of action, to her as much as himself. "There is not much I would rather do than to take you upstairs and finish what we have begun. For some reason, I feel the need to see us married first."

"But, Rhett, we are already married. You have the paper to prove it and everything."

"I know. I know. I can't explain it, but I want to do this the right way. I want all of you, Scarlett. Will you have me?"

"You know that I will. I have already said yes, more than once I believe," she dimpled slightly as she added this last.

"Alright, it's settled. We shall be properly married." He stood and reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some arrangements to be made."

"Now? At this time of night?"

"Yes, I need to find Sally to make up the other guest room. You don't really believe that I can hold you in my arms and sleep with you tonight after a kiss like that, do you?"

She blushed furiously as he pressed another kiss on the back of her hand, turning it over and kissing her wrist before releasing it and exiting the room.

The next morning found Rhett taking over James' office as he worked on details for his newly planned nuptials. He wanted a ceremony and all that came with it, but also wanted to maintain the story he had created when they first arrived to town. He felt that any cracks in their story would lead to questions with respect to other parts of it and in turn, jeopardize Scarlett's freedom. He barely understand his need for this ceremony at all; he certainly wasn't willing to lose her over his desire to marry her properly.

He pulled out the marriage certificate that his lawyer had sent weeks earlier. Eying the document, he focused on the date and noted that their wedding anniversary was just over three weeks away. The recognition of that date gave him the perfect solution to their conundrum. Timelines would be tight, but money could assist with most time constraints with his biggest concern being the possibility of finding her something suitable to wear.

Decision made, he strode from the office, his limp absent with the energy of his gait. Finding Samuel, he asked him to bring James' carriage around. He had much to accomplish and little time in which to do so. He knew, also, that despite the central location of James' home with respect to the main business centre of town, Rhett would be foolish to attempt the completion of any of his tasks on foot. He would harbour no limp in his stride as he walked with his bride down the aisle.

Three weeks later and exactly three years to the date blazoned on their marriage certificate, Rhett waited impatiently in the parlour while his wife who was also his bride readied herself in the room above. It had taken some persistence and a fair bit of persuasion, financial and otherwise, but he had pulled it off.

The priest at the Holy Trinity Church might have thought it unusual for a couple to renew their wedding vows so soon into their marriage and he also might have thought it odd to request a ceremony so closely matched to what would have been the ceremony when they were initially wed. His thoughts and questions were easily laid aside however, when the generous donation was offered by the clearly devoted husband.

Scarlett had surprised him when he had returned on that first day after having secured the church. He had offered her _carte blanche_ to plan their ceremonial dinner, so long as he and James could acquire the necessary ingredients in the limited time provided. She asked for a much simpler menu instead and handed him a letter that she had written to Melanie Wilkes. She had written a brief letter previously, shortly after Frank's death, to assure her sister-in-law of hers and Wade's own safety, but this letter was much more detailed. She had laid out their _'truth'_ , including their _'marriage'_ in Atlanta, her surprise at finding Rhett alive and out of jail, her dilemma at having already married Frank despite not really being able to and her feelings for Rhett and how they had led to their ultimate escape in May. She vaguely mentioned injuries which had kept her in Augusta, but little else in reference to the pain she had endured. She then asked Melanie to explain all or none to her father, as she saw fit, but to bring him to Augusta in time for the renewal of their vows. Rhett had purchased four train tickets – for the Wilkes family and Gerald O'Hara – and mailed them along with her letter. He also wired further funds to the account he had directed funds to the month prior, including extra should any other O'Hara family chose to attend. Scarlett's sister Careen had chosen to come as well, but Scarlett's sister Suellen and her new husband, Will, had decided to remain behind.

He knew that Scarlett worried at where everyone would sleep, but also knew she had little of which to be concerned; there was one last surprise he still held in store for her.

The sound of a door closing sounded from the top of the stairs, pulling him from his musings and drawing him out of the parlour. His eyes drawn up, he found her waiting at the top of the stairs, more beautiful than the first time he had set eyes upon her. The dress was simple, by necessity of time, but its simplicity accented her beauty even more. The palest of pinks, the fabric almost shimmered in the light. The dress was cut across to bare her shoulders with sleeves that fit her arms tight to her elbows then flared out slightly to her wrist. A band of navy circled her elbows while a layer of ivory lace peaked out from beneath the fabric at her wrist. Her waist was accented with the same navy trim as was the bodice and the bottom of her skirt was trimmed in navy and a layer of lace as well. A simple lace shawl covered her hair and shoulders in a nod to the modesty dictated by the church.

She smiled shyly down at him and he read the nervous happiness in her eyes. A few dark tendrils escaped the mass of curls gathered at her nape and he longed to reach out and tuck one behind her ear. Her green eyes danced and her skin seemed to glow next to her gown and he wondered how he would ever make it to the evening. She was at his side then and he held out his arm, noting the light grey shade of his suit was a perfect complement to the soft pink of her gown. He had donned a navy ascot to play with the navy of her outfit and a single, pink and white magnolia to match the bouquet she would carry with her.

"My love, you look beautiful," he whispered in her ear, mainly for the want of putting his lips close to her rather than the need to hide his words.

"You, too. I mean, you look very handsome today." A slight blush coloured the apples of her cheeks.

"Thank you, my dear. Now shall we?"

He escorted her into the waiting carriage. Their small gathering of family and friends had already been ferreted over to the church to await their arrival. It may not be traditional for the groom to accompany his bride to the church, but since they were supposed to be already married and this was a vow renewal instead of a wedding, he felt confident in going against the traditions in this case.

The carriage stopped in front of the church and Rhett assisted his bride/wife from her seat. Tucking her hand in his elbow, he lead her up the stone stairs as the full impact of the moment settled on his shoulders. Samuel had passed them and stood waiting at the church doors and opened one to allow their entrance.

Rhett led Scarlett slowly but purposefully down the aisle of the church as their small gathering rose in their seats in the front pews. He noted the warm smiles from the women gathered and even Scarlett's father seemed happy and surprisingly coherent for the ceremony. They arrived at the altar and Rhett turned his attention to the priest.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the white-haired man began, "we are gathered here today, in the presence of God, so that this husband and wife may reassert their commitment to one another. After a tumultuous year that included serious injuries for both, they are thankful that God has brought them through these challenges, together. As a demonstration of their faith, they have chosen to repeat their marriage ceremony, this time with not only God as their witness, but you, their family and friends."

Rhett looked away from the priest and turned to face Scarlett. She still held the small bouquet and he took it from her hand and handed it to her sister, Careen. He then captured both of her hands in his and met her shining jade eyes with his unguarded gaze.

"Do you, Rhett Kershaw, promise to love this woman, to comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others, keep only to her as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," he replied, his voice gruff with emotion.

"Do you, Katie Scarlett, promise to obey and serve this man, to love, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others, keep only to him as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." Scarlett's voice was soft when she answered, but still carried easily to his ears. A slight smile had formed with her response.

Rhett turned away from her, quickly finding James who handed him the ring that Rhett had acquired a week earlier. The ring featured a central diamond surrounded by a small diamond cluster on a gold band. He was sure luck was on his side when he had found this perfect ring considering how little time he had. He wasn't sure if he would have found anything better if he had had a year to search. He handed the ring to the priest who blessed it and then returned it to Rhett.

He took a deep breath, met Scarlett's searching gaze and took her left hand in his and then slowly slid the ring onto her third finger.

"With this ring, I thee wed."

Her smile grew and lit up her face as he made his pledge. The priest continued speaking but he found he was no longer paying close attention. There was leavened bread and wine and more words from the priest. He took note of none of it; his sole focus on the woman who was finally, truly his wife.

Scarlett was surprised by how curious the wedding ceremony had made her feel. This was the third time she had spoken the words, after all. In the past, she had felt disappointment, desperation and trepidation for what lie ahead. And, there was just as much uncertainty in her current circumstances as there had been for either of her previous nuptials. Yet, there was something about this time, something about the way she had felt when she looked into Rhett's eyes and promised herself to him. She knew that this time was different; they were already technically married with no need for the actual ceremony. But, Rhett had wanted the ceremony and once she had agreed, Scarlett found that she had wanted it as well. Not for a pretty dress or a fancy meal. She wanted to share this moment with her family. She wanted to have a real memory of it rather than just a story to tell people when they asked. And surprisingly, not one to have truly valued the ceremony in her past, she wanted to say those words of commitment – to him.

Their friends and family had returned to James' home where the wedding meal was to be served. The dining room was filled with the sound of conversation and laughter; the table was laden with food and Scarlett was thrilled to be in the company of her family and friends. Rhett was seated at the head of the table with Scarlett to his right. James was seated across from her having relinquished the opposite end of the table to her father. Next to him was William and then her sister Careen. Melanie sat to her left while Ashley sat on the opposite side of his wife. Beau and Wade had happily changed into their play clothes after having eaten a quick meal in the kitchen before racing into the yard to play.

Melanie clasped her hand tightly. "Oh, sister, I have missed you so. I am so happy that we could be here to share this day with you and Captain Butler."

"Oh, Melly, I've missed you dearly, too," Scarlett replied sincerely but chose not to address the reason for their gathering. She still felt uncomfortable with the telling of the story they had created and even more so when it meant lying to someone who had been so involved in her life for the better part of the three years of her supposed marriage.

"Obviously, circumstances prevented us from including any of you the first time around," Rhett interjected. "With everything else that has transpired, especially over the course of this last year, we felt that not only would it be prudent to reaffirm our commitment, but to rectify the absence of all of you when we first wed."

The women at the table all seemed to blush slightly at the reference to Scarlett's supposed invalid marriage to Frank Kennedy and she heard Ashley clear his throat awkwardly. Her father seemed oblivious to the reference and Scarlett wondered if Melanie had told him at all or if he had simply forgotten.

James stood up, raising his glass as he did. "I would like to propose a toast to the fine couple." The remainder of their guests raised their glasses as well. "To Rhett and Scarlett, may your marriage be blessed with many more years of love, prosperity and of course, adventures as only a Butler marriage can be."

There were soft chuckles amidst the "here, here's" before the small group drank from their glasses. The soup course was cleared and little pockets of conversation seemed to take up all around Scarlett. She looked over to her sister who seemed to be actually participating in the conversation between William and Ashley. Scarlett was sure they were discussing some sort of literary work thinking that it would likely be the only thing the three of them might have in common. Careen had always been the more scholarly of the three O'Hara girls and after Brent had passed, she buried her nose in novels nearly as often as in prayer.

Scarlett leaned over to Melanie. "Tell me how things are at Tara."

"Well, Scarlett, you know I don't know much about the planting, but the new help Will hired seem to be working out very well. I'm certain that Ashley and I would have never been able to make the trip without them."

"I'm glad, Melly. I couldn't imagine not having you here today," Scarlett found that as she said them, the sentiments rang true. She had missed having Melanie at her side as she had whilst they struggled at Tara. "Please tell me you can stay a few days longer. Why it will be Beau's birthday in just a couple of days! You must stay here to celebrate."

"Oh, Scarlett, we would love to but I really don't think Will can do without us for so long at Tara."

"Well, maybe you and Careen can stay with Pa and Ashley can go back to help Will. It would be so nice to have a few more days with both of you."

"Oh, I don't know," Melanie hedged. "I will talk to Ashley and see what he thinks is best. It would be lovely to spend more time with you."

"Please do. We could have a lovely visit and I'm sure and Wade and Beau would love a few more days together as well."

Satisfied that the offer had been extended and hopefully well received, Scarlett returned her attention to her plate. The conversation continued to float across the table as plates were once again cleared and another course was served. The sound of it reminded her of the times at Tara before the war when the family and the occasional guest would gather for meal times and she found herself missing her mother terribly. Almost as if he could read her thoughts, she found Rhett squeezing her hand reassuringly. She blinked away the tears that had suddenly formed and looked at him, feeling the kindness in his eyes push her melancholy away.

Her father cleared his throat from the head of the table and rose to his feet, drawing the attention of the table. Holding his glass up in front of him, his familiar Irish brogue easily carried along the table.

"Captain Butler, ye did not ask me for my daughter's hand before ye wed her," he began and Scarlett shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It seemed as though the entire table had stiffened slightly with their faces schooled into neutral expressions behind their raised glasses. "But if ye did, I would have given it gladly."

Scarlett let out the breath she had been holding and smiled more genuinely as the remainder of the party relaxed as well.

"Tis a good suit ye make to my Katie Scarlett," Gerald continued. "Much better than any of the county boys she may have considered. But mind ye, she is a stubborn lass and I'm afraid a little spoiled too. Ye might even say I have some part in all that."

"Pa," Scarlett admonished, a slight warmth colouring her cheeks. Rhett chuckled from her side.

"But, I promise ye, she will make ye a good wife. Mind ye take good care of her and Katie, take good care of your husband. And, to ye both, I say - may the road rise up to meet ye. May the wind always be at your back. May the warm rays of sun fall upon your home and may the hand of a friend always be near. May green be the grass ye walk on. May blue be the skies above ye. May pure be the joys that surround ye and may true be the hearts that love ye."

Glasses were raised and the tinkling sound of the slight tapping of the crystal filled the room. Scarlett felt the love for her father swell up within until it near took her breath away.

Gerald drained his glass and added one final quip before sitting down: "Missus O'Hara will be asking for more grand-babes soon, I imagine, so best ye get to work on that soon."

"Oh, Pa," she whispered as tears spilled over the rims of her lids. In a single toast, her father had not only reminded her of the man she had grown up loving, but also that he was not fully that man any longer.

As the reminder of her father's circumstances engulfed her, she felt Rhett's warm hand cup her cheek while his slightly calloused thumb brushed away the tears she had let slip. His strength emanated from her side and she readily drew it in. She quickly brushed at the other cheek and smiled wanly down the table, meeting her father's twinkling blue eyes as the warmth of his gaze washed over her.

 _So there we have it – another chapter in what seems to have become a rather lengthy story. I don't believe there will be much more for this tale of our favourite couple but no one but the story can really know. As always, please let me know your thoughts. SS._


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

_Well, I feel like lately, every update starts with "so sorry it's been so long…" but I guess this is partly a combination of life and also because I am nearing the end and there is just less to tell. This chapter was particularly difficult to write as it really moves from one type of "feel" to another and I although the individual pieces were quick to put on the page, I had a hard time bringing them together. I hope it flows for you readers and I really do appreciate your patience and support throughout the months and months that I have taken to write this story._

 _As always, I don't own these characters and no harm is intended in their use in this work of fiction. Also, a reminder that this story is rated M – still_ _SS._

Chapter Twenty-Seven

After the meal was completed, James invited everyone to the parlour for port and sherry. As the guests retired to the other room, Scarlett watched as Rhett pulled James aside and the men exchanged a few quick words before following behind. The men then entered the room and Rhett moved to her side, wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. The couple stood back and watched as their guests mingled, smaller groups forming and once again, conversation pockets floated throughout the room.

Rhett cleared his throat from her side, gathering the attention of the small party. "My wife and I greatly appreciate everyone joining us for our… anniversary celebration, but I must beg that you excuse us. I have one more gift for my darling wife and I'm afraid I must steal her away so I may give her this last surprise."

Scarlett wondered at what Rhett might have up his sleeve. She had been amazed at what he had been able to pull together for their wedding in the short time provided and couldn't imagine what else he could have accomplished in these past few days.

"My dear," Rhett focused his attention on her instead of the group. "Might I interest you in joining me for a short walk?"

Scarlett found herself more surprised at his request for the walk than she had been at his announcement of having a gift for her. A gift that she belatedly realized she couldn't reciprocate. She nodded silently in agreement.

The air was warm still even though the sun had begun to set. Yet, it had cooled enough so that their walk was comfortable. Rhett led them in the direction of the park that they had often visited in relation to their multiple visits to the young doctor's home. Once reaching the edge of the park, he brought them down a side street instead of continuing on to William's home which surprised Scarlett. She had thought that perhaps Rhett had hidden her gift at their friend's home but was perplexed by the change in direction.

"Where are we going, Rhett?" she finally asked.

He chuckled softly before replying: "I must admit I am amazed that you had waited so long to ask me."

"Well, I thought we were going to William's house. I thought maybe you had kept whatever gift you might have there so I wouldn't see it."

"And, what did you think it might be?"

"Oh, Rhett, I have no idea," Scarlett confessed and she truly didn't. He had already given her so much and she had nothing to offer in return. "I really didn't think that you would be giving me anything at all after everything you have done to make today so special."

He stopped and turned so they were facing each other. "Was it really? Was it special enough for you?"

His eyes were searching her face earnestly and she glimpsed a moment of vulnerability in their depths. "Oh, Rhett, it was lovely. I don't know how you managed with such a short amount of time. Given a year to plan, I don't think I would change a thing."

He smiled broadly and she found herself smiling in return. He tucked her hand back safely into the crook of his elbow and they continued their walk along the quiet street. As they neared the end of the street, he drew them to a stop once again.

Scarlett looked around, perplexed. The area around them held only houses and none that seemed familiar to her. Many were dark inside or had just a single light in what would likely be a parlour window. The yards were neat and tidy however and most of the buildings seemed in good repair. Clearly these homes had been well cared for after the war.

Rhett opened the small white gate on the fence of the house that stood directly before them.

"Rhett, what are you doing?" she asked in a scandalized whisper. "We don't know these people and they clearly are not receiving. We can't just walk up to the door."

He grinned down at her, holding the gate open wide and gesturing for her to proceed up the walk.

"My love, my wife. This is your gift. Welcome to our new home."

Scarlett had taken a few steps forward but faltered to a stop with his words. 'Home?' She looked back at Rhett and found only sincerity on his face. She looked back to the house that stood proudly before her. A wide porch spanned the front of the home on both the main and second level with a white railing that contrasted nicely with the dark charcoal of the building. A magnolia tree stood tall and proud to the right of the porch, many of its branches sporting late blooms that matched the bouquet she had carried earlier that day. She turned back to her husband.

"Rhett, is it real? Is it really ours?"

"It is. Now come and let me show you around."

He tugged slightly on her hand until she remembered to walk and followed him up the stairs. He fished a key out of his breast pocket and unlocked the dark, wooden door. She glanced to either side of her, noting the pleasing width of the porch and imagined enjoying a quiet evening as she had many a time at Tara.

"Now, it is tradition for a husband to carry his new wife over the threshold."

Before she could respond, he had easily lifted her into his arms and carried her into their home. He lowered her after just a moment, but held her close and she welcomed his warmth as it enveloped her. He stepped back slightly, moving his hands from her back to cup her face and captured her lips in a kiss.

After a few moments, they parted. "Forgive me, my love, but I could not wait another second to kiss you in our new home for the first time. I intend to kiss you many more times in this foyer and throughout this house, but let's save some of that for later."

Scarlett's cheek warmed with his promise and she glanced shyly down at her feet. Rhett clasped her hand in his as he began the tour of their new home. She found herself quickly lost in its understated beauty. Dark wood floors led them from room to room, their planks wide and solid, attesting to the sturdiness of the home. In the parlour and adjacent dining room, white wainscoting framed the lower half of the walls and surrounded the large fireplace in the parlour. A mahogany table with seating for ten and matching sideboard filled the dining room but the parlour was unfurnished. The walls above the wainscoting were finished in a dark grey that echoed the colour of the outside of the home. On the opposite side of the foyer, across from the parlour, there was another sitting room. Its walls were a soft buttercream from floor to ceiling except one wall where dark, wooden shelves dominated the space. A door from the library led them to a small room that was clearly meant to be a study. Both rooms, like the parlour, were absent of furniture but the shelves and fireplaces leant them enough character that Scarlett could easily imagine how beautiful they would be once furnished.

They moved on to the kitchen where the walls were painted a bright white. A large stove dominated one wall and a small table filled the space in the centre of the room. In the corner, she spied a stairway that lead to what she assumed would be the cellar and cold storage away from the light-filled room. Another door opened to a small hallway that led to three small rooms clearly intended for use by servants of the home.

Rhett led her to the second floor where she found two larger rooms at either end of a central hallway with three smaller rooms spanning the distance between the two. The wooden floors had carried up the stairs but the hallway and bedroom floors were all covered by a dark plush carpet. Two of the smaller rooms contained a bed and chest of drawers and one of the larger bedrooms was furnished as well. A large bed dominated the room with small tables at either side. There was a large chest of drawers and a dressing table that stood next to a small fireplace. A large closet stood on the opposite side of the dressing table and Scarlett was surprised to find her small collection of dresses already hanging within it along with Rhett's wardrobe. On the opposite side of the room, a door stood that led to a small room containing a chamber pot and wash stand. Opposite the bed, floor to ceiling glass doors were framed by white drapes that matched the linens on the bed. The doors opened to the second floor terrace and allowed the fading light of the setting sun to warm the room. Rhett opened the doors and the couple stood quietly as the sun slipped below the horizon.

"Do you like it?" he asked after a few minutes had passed.

"It's beautiful," she answered. "How did you ever find it?"

"James knew of the property. It had been sitting empty for a few months now. A widower had abandoned it a few months after her husband had passed away, choosing to return to her family home instead of keeping the house her husband had restored."

"I didn't know that you meant to stay in Augusta," she said.

"To be honest, I hadn't, but I thought it would be nice to start our married life in a home of our own. And, since we are currently in Augusta, I thought why not remain? We may decide to live elsewhere in the future but it seemed like a good course to set some roots for the time being."

'A home of their own?' she thought. Scarlett had never had a home of her own. She might be married to her third husband, but fate had always intervened, leaving her to ever remain a long-term guest in someone else's home. She looked around the large bedroom, clearly meant to house the owner and felt pride in the fact that she belonged there.

"I can't wait to sleep here," she said, smiling over her shoulder at Rhett.

"Well, my dear, you won't have to wait too long. After all, the hour is getting rather late."

"What do you mean it's getting late? Oh, you mean tonight?" she said, surprise evident even to her own ears.

"Yes, of course, tonight. You didn't really think I brought you to this nice, private house on our wedding night only to bring you back to my friend's over-crowded home?" He grinned as he answered and she could detect the slightest hint of teasing in his tone.

"But, we must get back to our guests," she stumbled in reply. "They will be waiting for us. And, Wade, too. He'll be wanting his story from you."

"Ah, Scarlett," he said softly as he stepped in front of her. His hands held her upper arms gently. "With everything you've been through, sometimes I forget how many things you haven't. Don't worry, I'm certain young Wade will be fine for this one night, especially with his cousin and favourite Aunt in his company. But, if it helps put your mind at ease, I will admit that I did ask Samuel to come and get me should there be any problems getting the young master to sleep."

He pressed a kiss against her forehead before continuing: "And for the rest of it, James has already informed our friends and family that we will not be returning this evening; that this house was your gift and we will be spending the night in our new home. He has told them that as it is not yet fully furnished, we could not invite them to stay here but he will be graciously lending us his staff tomorrow so everyone may come here for an early luncheon. There will be plenty of time for visiting and apologies then."

He tipped her chin up and briefly pressed his lips against hers. She had closed her eyes with the quick kiss but opened them again to find Rhett's dark eyes heatedly gazing upon her. Suddenly, the reality of a proper wedding night filled her awareness and in spite of the happiness that had permeated the day, she found worry colouring the edges of the day's memories.

"Now, my dear," Rhett broke the momentary silence, "why don't I help you loosen those laces so you might be a little more comfortable?"

He stepped away as he spoke, removing his jacket and hanging it on a peg in the closet. He removed his cravat and tossed it on the nearby chair while unfastening the top buttons of his shirt. In two quick strides, his long legs returned him to where she was standing, and his fingers nimbly pulled at the ribbons at her back. She immediately felt herself relax as her ability to breathe more deeply returned. Rhett helped her step out of the gown and he brought it to the closet and returned with her wrapper. He helped her into it before moving to the small table that stood unnoticed near the terrace doors. It held a decanter and glasses and he poured them each a half measure of the amber liquid. She noted his familiarity in the space and recognized that he had spent more than just a couple of hours in their new home.

"I would normally prefer that we have our nightcap in the study, but seeing the lack of furniture in that room currently, I thought it best we go against the usual trends." He lightly tapped his glass against hers. "Here's to many nightcaps together, my love."

She smiled before sipping from her glass, the liquid fire burning some of her apprehension away. He led her to the dressing table and pulled the chair out so she could sit while he leaned against the table itself, crossing his outstretched legs at his ankles. She noted how comfortable he seemed and allowed herself to relax her normally rigid posture.

' _This is Rhett; the same Rhett that you've slept beside for weeks now_ ,' she told herself.

Nothing had changed except she knew that everything had changed. She thought back to that fateful moment on Aunt Pitty's porch when she had instantly accepted Rhett's offer of help. She thought of where she might be today if she hadn't and barely contained the shudder that chased up her spine. Every aspect of her life with Rhett was so much improved over the life she had been living, she had to have faith that the marriage bed would be less painful as well. She took a fortifying drink from her glass and looked up at her husband with hope mixing in with her feelings of trepidation.

Scarlett ran her finger along the smooth edge of the dark wood of the dressing table while waiting nervously for Rhett who had gone to secure the house… their house. They had shared a second glass of brandy while Rhett had helped her take the pins out of her hair. The feel of his fingers in her strands along with the liquor had helped to relax her further.

She shivered slightly in her thin wrapper but knew it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. The door opened and she stiffened as the thoughts of what was to come next returned to the forefront of her mind. Throughout the excitement and thrill of touring their new home, she had managed to forget what the final act of their wedding night would entail. The casualness of their attire during their nightcap had threatened to remind her, but the brandy and his attention to her hair helped to distract her. Now, however, she could forget no longer.

She felt his presence even though she didn't hear him, his ever-quiet footfalls even more so on the thick carpeting. Rhett stood behind her, towering over and around her and her stomach flipped in anticipation. His fingers gently brushed her hair back over her shoulder and then traced a line along the edge of her jaw, applying gentle pressure on her chin until she looked over her shoulder. She kept her eyes lowered, but she could see the rise and fall of his chest in time with her own breathing. His fingers released their pressure on her chin and moved to caress her cheek, his thumb catching on her lower lip.

Before she could react, his lips were on hers, moving slowly and softly. His hands cupped her face as his body moved until she found herself standing with her chest pressed against his. Their kiss deepened and she tentatively pushed her tongue forward to taste him as his fingers caught up in her hair. His hand escaped the tangle of her tresses and moved to caress her breast through the thin material of her shift, her wrapper seeming to fall aside of its own accord. A moan escaped from the back of her throat as her nipple tightened in response and a warmth pooled in her belly. His lips suspended their assault on hers, kissing along her jaw as his hand moved from her breast to cup the swell of her behind. He pressed their bodies together and she felt the hardness of his manhood against the warmth spreading in her belly.

"My love," he breathed into her ear, "I have waited for this for so long. I need to touch all of you."

A shiver chased down her spine as his breath tickled her ear and then he lightly nipped at her lobe and she felt an answering warmth in her nether regions. His fingers loosened the neck of her shift until her shoulder was bared and he kissed a pathway along her collar bone. Suddenly, she was lifted from her feet and she found herself cradled in Rhett's arms as he carried her the short distance to the bed. He laid her gently on the bedding and she watched as he quickly divested himself of his shirt. Warmth filled her cheeks as she took in the hard muscles of his chest which lead to smaller muscles that disappeared below the waist of his pants.

He leaned over her and kissed her again and she found herself tangling her tongue with his desperately. So lost in the kiss was she that it wasn't until his calloused thumb brushed against her nipple that she realized that he had managed to fully remove her shift. He pulled away from their kiss, tracing a path with his lips until he took her breast into her mouth. Warmth pooled and her body writhed as he suckled and the nipple on her other breast tightened painfully, yearning for similar attention. She closed her eyes and bit her lip in an effort to contain the embarrassing moans that escaped from deep within. Seeming to hear the demands of her neglected breast, Rhett changed his focus and she found herself arching up to meet the pull of his lips.

She heard him swear softly under his breath as cold air washed over her. She felt briefly abandoned and then his lips were kissing a path along her calf, past her knee and then up her thigh, finally nipping softly at her hip. He kissed along her ribcage until he finally, once again, captured her nipple between his talented lips.

"Oh, Rhett, please," she begged, not really knowing what she was begging him for – to stop? To never stop? Her fingers gripped at the bedsheets as she fought for purchase as the maelstrom swirled within.

His mouth left her and she could hear him breathing from above. His fingers were wrapped around her wrists and then she found her arms pulled over her head. Both wrists were then captured tightly together and his hips were between her thighs and suddenly, his penis slid swiftly and forcefully into her. She felt hips move and then it slid back and rammed forward. She was back in the darkness and hips moved and then his body slammed against hers again.

"Scarlett, Scarlett," his ragged breath reached her in the darkness as its warmth washed over her, filling her with the scent of…

'Cigars and brandy?'

"Open your eyes, please. Look at me. Stay with me."

"Rhett?"

She opened her eyes to find his concerned gaze only inches from her. He had released her wrists, rested on one forearm while the other hand caressed her temple and continued a path to brush away the tear that had traced a path into her hair.

"My love, I'm sorry, I… couldn't help myself. I want you so badly and I've waited so long. Did I hurt you?"

His eyes were searching her face and he was breathing rather heavily, his body a comfortable weight balanced over her. 'Had he hurt her?' She took a moment of internal inventory and found that she did not hurt. She felt curiously full, his manhood still sheathed within her, and her breasts throbbed but in a way that she would never describe as pain. She shook her head ever-so-slightly.

"Good," he said softly, his lips turning into a slight smile. He lowered his head until his lips were almost touching hers. "I will try to go more slowly my love," he promised before taking her lips once again.

His hand reached down to squeeze her aching breast and soon, she found herself arching her back into his touch. She met his tongue, tasting, exploring and his hips moved slowly back and then forward until he was fully inside her again. He broke the kiss and captured her nipple between his lips and she heard the cry in the room before she realized it had come from her. Tingling and warmth seemed to spread from her breast and belly to the tips of her fingers and toes. His manhood slid slowly back and forth once again and she found herself raising her hips from the bed to take him in more fully.

"Scarlett," he growled before capturing her mouth in another kiss. His hand grabbed her hip, pulling her more closely to him and he moved more quickly between her legs. The tingling intensified, centred in her nether regions and she found herself squeezing her muscles to pull him into her more deeply. Her hands clasped his shoulders, holding on tightly to his muscled hardness and he broke their kiss once again.

"Open your eyes," he rasped, his breathing ragged as she complied. She felt lost, powerless as the heated tingling intensified further. The rhythm increased and the feelings overtook her body and she held on tightly with arms and legs, afraid but wanting, needing to go where he was taking her. Their movements became more frantic.

"Rhett, please, Rhett," she bit her lip to stifle her cries and then suddenly, it felt as if her centre exploded, the pleasure washing over her, arching her back with its intensity. She lost herself in the waves until they faded slowly, tremors bringing her back to awareness. Rhett's strangled cry that might have been her name sounded from somewhere above her and then he lowered himself until their chests were pressed together, his forehead resting on hers as he fought to catch his breath.

 _Thank you for your patience and as always, thank you for reading. Thoughts, reviews are always appreciated. SS._


	29. Epilogue

_Well, here it is… the end. When I started this story, I had never imagined that so much time and so many words and so many keystrokes would pass before I would be writing this final chapter. But, the day has finally come so without any further adieu, on with the show…._

Epilogue

Rhett quickly walked along the street that led to their home, warm lights in the parlour window drawing him like a beacon. They had been living in the house on Greene Street for just over six months now, yet he still felt the newness of arriving to a home of his own. The holidays had helped to cement the feeling of belonging when they had hosted a yuletide dinner. James and William had been in attendance along with Carreen and Gerald who had both remained in Augusta after the wedding. The Wilkes had visited for the holidays as well and Scarlett had commented that this was the first time that Christmas had actually felt like Christmas since before the war.

Rhett had ensured that there were presents for everyone under the tree but had practiced restraint. It had been difficult. This was their first Christmas as a family and he wanted to spoil his new wife and son; both had suffered so much over the past few years and he wanted to make up for that suffering. But, he had to be cautious not to flaunt his wealth. Gerald still had his lucid moments and he needn't have his father-in-law questioning the source of his ill-begotten funds. There was also the Wilkes to think of as well. Although he still held little regard for Ashley, he did hold his wife in high esteem. He had been especially careful when making purchases for Wade, and most-notably those that had been brought by St Nicholas, so he could get matching gifts for Beau without making Melanie, or Ashley, uncomfortable.

The only caveat to his humble holiday design had been his gift to Scarlett – a long overdue honeymoon to Paris. He had given her the ship passes in a gift box and the memory of the sparkle that had lit up her eyes once she realized what the gift was still elicited a flutter in his heart. He chuckled to himself when he recalled the almost childish pout that emerged when she realized that she would have to wait until near spring to actually receive her gift. Although, he was quite certain that a winter voyage across the Atlantic would have not been quite so well received. He had to admit that although he had travelled the world over, he was more excited about this upcoming voyage than any of his previous journeys.

It was because of this trip that, when the Wilkes had returned to Tara, Carreen and Gerald had returned also. Rhett felt certain that Carreen would be making a trip back to Augusta soon however. A connection had formed between the youngest O'Hara daughter and their doctor friend and he was certain that if he and Scarlett hadn't been leaving that she would never have returned to Tara in the first place.

Their ship sailed in three weeks' time, but they would be leaving in the morning for Charleston. It had been far too long since he had paid a visit to his mother and sister and he had to admit that he was anxious for these important women in his life to meet his wife. He had written them both, of course, and had been certain to continue the tale of their marriage that was almost becoming a truth for them it had been repeated so often. He was certain that his mother would be sharing the story with Scarlett's aunts and he wouldn't want any inconsistencies should they choose to write to Tara upon hearing of the news.

His sister had seen holes in the tale that his mother chose to ignore. She was able to see there was something in the story that didn't fit with the brother she loved. Certain details that didn't line up with the timeline she knew of his life after the end of the war. She became the only person other than William and James to know the full truth. So, he told her the full truth - pages and pages of history between himself and his new wife and begged her to burn the pages once they were read.

He told of Scarlett's declaration of love for the sad Mr. Wilkes and how he had let that prevent him from actively pursuing her when she had first arrived in Atlanta. He then went on to give the reasons why he was certain she no longer harboured those feelings. He told her of the many times he had left her to fend for herself not realizing how truly bad her circumstances would be. He wrote with embarrassment of the time he had left her to find her way home between the two armies in a misguided sense of obligation that he was sure should be attributed to their father.

He wrote of the offer she had made him while he had been jailed and how his pride had led him to fail her in yet another great time of need. For the first time, he put into words, the feelings of wrongdoing that had niggled on the edges of his consciousness with each meeting after she had become wed to Kennedy. An instinct, a gut reaction that he had ignored even as it persisted over time. He explained that when he had returned to Atlanta after their father had died, she had been clearly hurt more visibly than any of the times previously and his instincts took over, resulting in their ultimate escape from Atlanta.

He wrote of how consumed with rage he had been when he realized the extent of her injuries and his very real battle with wanting to exact revenge. With blurred lines, he told her of his injury and Scarlett's tireless nursing, sacrificing her own health for his. He told her of the lost baby and how he worried over her ever getting with child again for fear that it would endanger her health in the future. He proudly wrote of how Scarlett had threw herself into harm's way when Kennedy had threatened him and how if that didn't show him how much she loved him, he didn't know what would.

He asked her to love and accept his wife despite her imperfections. He needed her to understand all that she had been through so she wouldn't judge their relationship unjustly. He knew Scarlett tried. There were times when she seemed so content and relaxed and he could caress her cheek or steal a quick kiss and she would lean into his touch. But there were other times, too many times, when she would instinctually jerk away from him; when she would stiffen with fear, holding her breath, waiting for the impact of a fist or worse. Nights when, in the midst of love-making, she would shut down completely; eyes screwed shut, tears streaming down her face and he would lose all desire completely.

He thought of that first night, when he had been able to bring her back to him and she had enjoyed their relations. The sex had been like no other he had ever had, before or after. Those moments after they had both orgasmed and the warmth had spread through him, filling him with love for the woman beneath him. He had dropped beside her, pulling her against him, luxuriating in the feeling of her softness against him. They had lain together for a few quiet moments until suddenly, she had sobbed brokenly and no matter how he had tried, he couldn't seem to soothe her tears. Since that night, even if she managed to stay wholly and fully with him, he found he couldn't find the same sense of completion as he waited once they were finished to see if she would fall to tears once again.

He wrote to Rosemary and told her to be patient with his wife – telling her so that he might remind himself. It had been less than a year since she had last suffered at Kennedy's hands and he knew it wasn't fair for him to expect her to mentally recover when truly she hadn't fully physically recovered yet. She still suffered from severe headaches that would land her in bed for a full day if not longer. And the cold damp winter had brought aches to her injured bones that she tried to hide from him but he could easily detect in her movements. He refused to purchase her a proper corset, only allowing the lacing of her outer dress – a precaution which William had readily reinforced. Her health had improved greatly from the time when he had first whisked her away from Atlanta, but she still looked as though she was lacking in sleep and wanting for some food and it pulled at his heart knowing there was little more that he could do about it.

It was the only reason he had hesitated regarding their trip. A lengthy discussion with William had reassured him that his intentions were in the right direction. Although the trip to Charleston (and all its rigid traditions) might be taxing, the time to rest before taking on the sea travel would do Scarlett well. And, although the time on the ship might tax her, he felt certain that the change of scenery and excitement of Paris would help to lighten her soul.

He climbed the steps to his home and let himself in quietly. Pork had served as their butler for the first few months in their home, but had returned to Tara with Gerald and Carreen. Knowing that the family was headed for an extended trip, Scarlett had opted not to interview for a replacement until they returned. Rhett was sure that secretly she hoped that the trio would come back to Augusta when the trip ended and with the growing relationship between the doctor and Carreen, Rhett thought her hopes might very well come true.

He entered the parlour and for a moment stood to admire the homely scene. Scarlett was completing the finishing touches on a cap she had knitted for Wade while the young boy was studiously stacking building blocks into a small community. A fire blazed cheerfully and he was once again reminded of how nice it was to have a home filled with a loving family waiting for him at the end of his day.

"Good evening, Scarlett, Wade."

"Oh, hello Rhett. I didn't hear you come in," Scarlett greeted him with a small smile.

"Papa!" Wade called, jumping up and bounding over to him, wrapping his little arms around Rhett's legs.

It was moments like this one that made Rhett consider having a conversation with William about Scarlett's health and the likelihood of them adding more children to their home.

"Come up here and give your papa a proper hug," he said, easily lifting the boy into his arms and relishing the feel of his tiny arms squeezing him.

Scarlett put her knitting aside and slowly rose, grimacing slightly as she did and it was moments like that one that stayed Rhett from having that same conversation. She walked across the room and stood at his side, placing her hand on his forearm.

"What about your wife? Shall I give you a proper hug as well?"

"I think I would much prefer a proper kiss," he replied, bending slightly so she need only tilt her chin up to meet his lips in a kiss. Wade made sounds of protest, leaning away from the couple as they kissed briefly.

Rhett chuckled. "My son, there will be a time when you will grow to appreciate a wife that greets you with a proper kiss."

"Well, Rhett, I don't know if I would call that a proper kiss, but we don't have time for much more," Scarlett quipped, a faint blush colouring her cheeks beautifully. "I'm certain Cook is holding our supper. You are much later tonight."

"Ah, yes, my dear. There were quite a few tasks that required my attention at the bank, especially since we will be gone for such a lengthy time. I did manage to wrap up the sale of Kennedy's Emporium for you and have the proceeds tucked away into an investment fund for the time being. I also met with James one last time and he assured me he will check in on Hugh to ensure that all is going well with the mills."

He paused and lowered Wade to the floor. "How about you both? Have you completed all of your packing?"

"Yes, papa," Wade answered dutifully. "Mama said I could bring my blocks and books on the train, but that I had to leave my jacks and soldiers for the trunk that's for the big boat."

"Yes, that's a good idea. And, I trust you packed the papers from Miss Lucy, too. You wouldn't want Baldwin to get ahead of you on his letters, would you?"

"Oh no, papa. I packed them for Char'ston. Mama said Auntie Rosemary was very smart and she could help me so I will be even better than Baldwin with letters."

"Yes, Auntie Rosemary is very smart, but so is your mother although she does have a much better head for numbers than letters. Alright Wade, let's get your blocks together and up to your room so we don't forget them. You need to wash up for supper, too. We'll eat as soon as the table is set so we can have a good night's sleep. We have a long day of travelling tomorrow."

Wade quickly collected all of his blocks into the small carpet bag Scarlett had sewn together when it proved too challenging to return them to their original box. His toys collected, the boy raced up the stairs to wash up. Rhett turned his attention to the woman standing at his side.

"Are you ready, my love?"

She nodded her head yes and moved to tuck her hand in his offered elbow, but suddenly put a staying hand on his chest.

"Rhett, thank you so much," she said softly, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

"Scarlett, this trip is a gift to myself as much as it is to you and Wade. You've thanked me for it quite enough already."

"Not for the trip," she clarified, "although I truly am excited for our new adventure. Thank you for… for… well, for this." She waved her arms around, indicating the room. "For our home, our life." She put a hand on his chest. "My life. All of it." She took a deep breath and continued: "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. I realize every day that I wouldn't have any of this if it hadn't been for you and I don't know if I would even have wanted it – any of it – without you. I don't say it enough and I don't show you enough and you deserve so much more, but I just wanted to say thank you."

Rhett swallowed the lump that had formed with her words. She hadn't said that she loved him – to be honest, he didn't make it a point to say that he loved her very often either - but he could see the love shining in her eyes and for him, and for now, that would be enough. He wrapped her in his arms and held her against his chest tightly.

They stood like that, hearts beating together, breathing in sync, wrapped in each other's warmth until Rhett lost all track of time. Finally, Wade called from the hallway with an exasperated "papa" and reminding them both that it was time for dinner. The couple separated briefly, laughing at the boy's enthusiasm before following him, arm in arm, into the dining room for their meal.

The End.

 _I admit that I am a little sad to see the end of this work, but being completely honest, I would also have to admit that I am happy to see the end of this work. As many others here, I have aspirations to be a writer and I have worked on multiple creative works (including this one and a novel idea I have) at the same time. At some point, I chose to put my novel aside so I could "just wrap this up"… imagine my surprise when I checked the dates on my laptop and it had been a year since I had even made the slightest change to my novel! So as much as I am sad to say good-bye to Scarlett and Rhett, I know that the time has come. Sure there is more to tell but isn't there always? The story really never does end… there just has to be an ending. Hopefully this ending gives a little more satisfaction then MM's great work – although as much as I hate to admit it, the ending is really one of the reason's GWTW is so revered._

 _Thank you to everyone who has come along this very lengthy journey and even more so to those who have taken the time to let me know that they were with me. I know that I have not been the most dedicated author and I definitely have been lapse in replying to reviews, but they did so help to encourage me when interest in this story had waned. I truly appreciate the feedback and now that I don't have this great task before me, I might actually be able to reply to it (and not feel guilty for taking the time to reply instead of writing the overdue update). Hey, I might even be able to find the time to read a few fics as well (although true hypocrite that I am, I tend to stay away from WIP's_ _)._

 _Thank you thank you thank you. Until the next time. SS._


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